


Rule The World

by Queerbutstillhere



Series: Damian Wayne and Jonathan Kent [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Robin: Son of Batman (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anger, Arguing, Bad Decisions, Boyfriends, Brothers, Character Death, Conner Kent is best big brother, Creepy Ra's al Ghul, Damian Wayne Has Feelings, Developing Relationship, Drugs, Fire, First Kiss, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Help, Heroes to Villains, Honestly my readers are Baby, I love you guys, I will kill for my baby boy, Jonathan Kent goes bad, Kent Brothers, Kissing, M/M, Past Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Older Brothers, Protectiveness, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, Rescue, Rescue Missions, Revenge, Rough Kissing, Surprise Kissing, Trans Character, Trauma, Violence, Wayne Family, psychological help, updates frequently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-01-29 10:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21409024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queerbutstillhere/pseuds/Queerbutstillhere
Summary: Six years ago, Lex Luthor finally did it. He killed Superman. Two years ago, Lois Lane died in a car crash. Jonathan Kent went through the hardest times of his life without anyone but his brother, Conner Kent. Without the support of the Justice League. Without the support of his best friend.Jonathan Kent really couldn't be blamed when he started going down the dark path, could he? When he began toeing the line between good and evil? What about when he finally stepped over?The Justice League certainly though he could.In which Superboy starts becoming what Batman feared Clark would turn into. A dictator, and not a hero.~Any potential trigger warnings will be at the beginning of each chapter. Tags will update as I go, in order to avoid spoilers.~•Next update 12-25-2019•
Relationships: Jonathan Samuel Kent & Kon-El | Conner Kent, Jonathan Samuel Kent/Damian Wayne
Series: Damian Wayne and Jonathan Kent [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1525499
Comments: 133
Kudos: 258





	1. Life As It Is

"What the hell?! Oh god!"

Jon grinned as he heard the scream, he floated down, landing lightly in front of the mugger, crossing his arms as his white cape flapped around his legs.

"Hey, bub. Dunno if you know this, but this is  _ my _ territory."

The mugger, as well as the girl he had been stealing from, cowered in fear, he chucked his gun to the side, hands going up.

"Oh god please don't hurt me!"

"God can't save you now."

Jon rushed forwards, his hand closing around the man's throat. He let out a terrified squawk of pain, grabbing onto Jon's wrist. Jon just took the ladies purse, as well as the muggers wallet and tossed them back to her.

"Get lost, kid," he grumbled, fixing her with a hard glare.

"Yes Superboy!" She squeaked and ran around the corner.

Jon looked back at the mugger, and quickly smacked the man's head against the brick wall behind him, immediately rendering him unconscious, Jon threw him over his shoulder and started walking to the police station, strutting in like he owned the place. Because quite frankly, he did. The police officers all jumped up, staring at Superboy in fear. He deposited his flour sack of a man on the floor.

"I better not see him on the streets again," he ordered, pointing at him. "That is the second time I've dealt with him."

"You…. You don't bring us evidence, we can't put criminals in jail without evidence!" One detective exclaimed. 

Jon's head snapped over, he stalked up to the detective's desk, leaning against it to get up close to his face.

"If I see him back on the street, the next place  _ you'll _ see him will be in the  _ morgue,  _ evidence or not . Got it, Daniel?"

The detective swallowed, nodding, eyes wide.

"And besides, we all know this city is corrupt enough to not need evidence. Not with your leaders terrified to death of me."

Jon pushed back off the desk, walking back to the doors. 

"Keep working!"

The moment he hit the street, he shot into the air, taking off towards home. It was, for him, a short flight, the small country home he shared with his brother a half-hour out from Metropolis. He landed outside on the front sidewalk, heading up the porch and bumping the unlocked front door open.

"Hey, Kon! I'm home!"

It was almost supper time, and Jon could smell pizza in the oven. His stomach rumbled.

"Hey, kiddo! Go change and then food will be ready!" A call came from Conner's office.

Jon turned and jogged upstairs, into his room. He walked in, grabbing his phone from where he had left it on the bed. He answered a few texts before turning to grab clothes to change, catching a glance of himself in his mirror. He grinned at himself. He needed a haircut, but other then that, damn he looked good. Conner had been right, the new outfits had been a good look. The black bodysuit that flowed seamlessly into the white section on his chest and shoulders, and then back into the long white cape that trailed the ground just slightly. Jon reached down, tugging off the black boots that flowed into the bodysuit, covered by the end of the pants. He then pulled the cape off one of his shoulders, making it easier to pull the bodysuit off. 

He grabbed a pair of sweatpants, pulling them on, and tugging a flannel on, buttoning it partially on before pocketing his phone and jogging downstairs to find Conner, his brother, in the kitchen, slicing up their pizza. Conner, was tall, just an inch or two taller then Jon, broad chested, and pure muscle. He had short black hair, shaved military style, blue eyes and a scar through his left eyebrow that stretched down onto his cheekbone. There was no doubt the two were brothers, though Jon had been mistaken as Conner's kid a few times, which was understandable as Conner was literally a clone of their father.

"How was your day?"

"Eh, normal business. Had to talk some fear into the police again."

"Damn. You want me to go talk to them tomorrow?"

"No. It's just a few detectives being little shits. Nothing I can't handle."

"Alrighty."

Conner grabbed two plates from the cabinet, giving one to Jon before grabbing a few slices of the steaming hot pizza. Jon grabbed himself a few, a soda from the fridge, and followed Conner to the small dining room table, papers and mail strewn out across it. They sat beside each other, munching on their pizza and slowly sorting through the mess.

"Hey… I hate to ask but I need you to do something kinda dangerous for me."

"What's wrong?" 

Jon set down the letter he had been reading, a college invitation, and looked up at Kon, who was looking at a case file, frowning to himself.

"I need you to go talk to Hood tomorrow."

Oh. Talking to Red Hood meant going to Gotham… the one place they weren't supposed to touch. He blinked at Kon, who glanced up and frowned.

"You can say no."

"I know. What do you need me to talk to him about."

"He's been having some issues and was asking me for some help with a case. I've done some research but, he owes me a favor now and I want you to cash in on that."

Kon passed over the file he was holding and a quick look inside told Jon all he needed to know.

"Yeah, sure."

"Thanks," Kon said with a grin, looking beyond relieved.

Jon grinned, setting the file aside and returning to eating. He knew Conner hated making him go over to Gotham, but since he worked tomorrow, and was currently the only source of income for the household, he couldn't take off.

The two were an interesting pair. Conner, technically, was the younger of the two, only 11 or 12, but since he was born to appear the age of 16, he had taken charge of the place, now appearing to be in his upper 20's. Jon was 17, an early highschool graduate. Their father, Clark Kent, aka Kal-el, Superman, had been killed by Lex Luthor when Jon was only 11. Jon's mother, Lois, had cared for the two boys for a few years after that, but as she watched the two drop off the deep end, doing things Clark would have never approved of, she started pulling back. Jon had watched her be killed in an accident he couldn't prevent. He was only 15 at the time, and got worse from there.

Kon and Jon, or as the world knew them, Superman and Superboy, had steadily strayed from their fathers legacy, quickly becoming anti-heros, bordering on villains somedays. They were largely unstoppable, and most of the Justice League had their asses handed to them the one time they had tried. Metropolis, despite living in fear of the two Kryptonians practically ruling their city, and practically the whole state, was thriving, crime was nearly non-existent, and when it happened, it was stopped before anything could really happen. A large portion of the more major league villains, Ra's Al Guhl, Deathstroke, Sinistero, even the Joker had tried to get the brothers on their side, but they refused, stubbornly keeping their neutral stance.

Gotham, however, Gotham was the one place they weren't supposed to touch. They could go wherever the hell they wanted, even Wonder Woman and Green Lantern didn't want to mess with them, but Gotham. That stubborn ass city. Their loyal guardian, the Batman and his flock of birds had made it clear. The Supers were going to stay out of Gotham if they knew what was good for them. And since they did, they stayed far away. Batman had the largest supply of kryptonite in the world, and the one time Jon had gone toe to toe with him, he had whipped out a kryptonite batarang and had nearly killed Jon. So they had agreed and stayed far away from Gotham.

Except when it came to Red Hood. Red Hood, despite being part of the Bats flock, was more like the two brother's, balancing on the line between good and evil. They traded favors pretty regularly, and Hood even kept a pretty good tabs on the batgang for them.

So the next day, a Thursday, Jon flew to Gotham, getting there at about 9pm, the agreed time he was supposed to meet Red Hood on top of a church building in the narrows. Both men knew they had a limited time before Bats or a bird showed up, as they had sensors all around the city to alert Batman if one of the two supers dared enter the city, so Jon got there a little after 9pm, and was pleased to find Red Hood already waiting.

He touched down lightly on the edge of the church building, calling a greeting to alert the vigilante that he was there.

"Hood."

Red Hood turned, no emotion visible, as his face was hidden by that hideous red bucket of a helmet.

"Superboy," he grunted, walking closer, looking Superboy up and down. "Never told your brother, but the new uniforms suit you two."

"Thanks."

Jon produced the files he had been sent with, checking inside one and then holding it out.

"This is the research you asked for. I don't know what's all in there, I'm just the messenger."

"I know kid."

Red Hood took it and flipped through, grunting in approval, then looked back up.

"What's that then."

"Superman is cashing in on a favor."

Jon held out the second file. Red Hood looked it over and then back up at him, not speaking for a moment.

"Why does he think I know where Luthor is."

"I don't know. I told you, I'm just the messenger."

"Oh, I think you know. You're not that dumb."

Jon shrugged, crossing his arms.

"He's grasping at straws, Hood. It's been years, and we haven't been able to get Luthor. He's starting asking anyone and everyone. Hell, he even made a deal with Savage the other day just for a lead."

"Damn."

"Yeah."

"What about you, you've never seemed as desperate as he does."

Jon fixed Hood with his fear inducing glare, the one where the edges of his eyes start to glow red and he looks ready to murder. Hood didn't seem bothered.

"I'm not here to have you play shrink. Are you gonna help or not?"

"Yeah, I'll get Arsenal on it."

Hood tucked the files into the back of his pants, under his jacket. Then the beeping started. Jon could hear it, he knew what it was. Hood winced and brought a hand up to his helmet, tapping it.

"Hey-yo?"

"Hood, what the hell are you doing?" The gravelly voice of Batman could be heard.

Or rather, Jon was able to hear it because superhearing.

"Uh. Working?"

"You know they're not supposed to be in the city, Hood," a smoother, more refined voice followed.

"Oh, piss off, Rob. He's helping me."

"With what, murdering someone?"

Jon raised an eyebrow.

"I can't help feeling that I should go," he said staring to levitate.

"Too late."

Jon spun, and standing before him was a vigilante he faintly recognized as Robin. The now green and yellow armor a huge change from the Robin of his youth.

"Shit."

Jon stepped back and bumped into a solid body, then let out a shout of pain and shot away, but it was too late. He could already feel himself weakening. He turned to see who he had bumped into was Batman, a chunk of green kryptonite in his hand. Jon stared at him in horror, then at Hood, who had crossed his arms, stepping back.

"Are you fucking kidding me!? You filthy rat!" Jon spat at him, unwillingly dropping from his levitation, his powers quickly draining.

"I'll let your brother know," Red Hood said with a small sigh.

Jon, anger flaring, lunged at him, only to be yanked backwards by Robin stepping on his cape, throwing him down to be lying flat on his back, a sword suddenly pressed to his throat.

"Hold still," Robin commanded, his voice silky compared to his older male companions. 

Jon faintly noted the green dagger in his free hand, and knew that if he tried to fight, that would be going through his chest. He took a breath, putting his hands up by his head, and grinning lazily at Robin.

"Alright, handsome, you got me."

Robin ignored the quip, stepping forwards and knocking Jon out.

  
  


  
  


When Jon came to, it took him all of three seconds to realize his powers were still drained. He sat up off the cold stone floor he was laid on and looked around. He was sat inside a metal bar cage type cell, one side of it pressed into a wall that Jon realized was lead lined. The reason his drained powers became quickly obvious when he noticed the glowing green rocks placed outside the cell at every corner. Far enough away that they wouldn't kill him unless he approached, but close enough to keep him weakened. 

His blood was boiling. How dare they.

He suddenly realized there was a person, sat about 8 feet from the front of the cell. They were sat on the floor, cross legged, eyes closed. The person, or rather Robin, had yet to noticed Jon had woken. Jon carefully walked over to the front, waiting to see if he would feel the stinging pain of being too close to his glowing green nemesis. When none came, he rested his forearms on the bars, knocking on one to get Robin's attention.

"Superman isn't stupid. He'll realize where I am when he can't find me."

Robin slowly opened his eyes, his domino mask still keeping them hidden.

" _ That  _ is not Superman. And you are not Superboy. You are but pale imitations of what they used to be."

"Aw, come on, Rob. You know it's me."

Robin scoffed, looking up at the black and white clad man.

"Jonathan, you are nothing like the Superboy I worked with in my youth."

Jon grinned with his victory. So this  _ was _ the same Robin he had known.

"Glad to know you haven't changed, Dames."

Damian Wayne sighed and reached up, pulling off his black eye mask, setting it beside him and looking up at Jon. Jon let out a small gasp, because holy shit. Damian was gorgeous. His black hair was styled to perfection, the quiff tall, similar to how Jon had known him when they were young. His piercing green eyes were scanning Jon. His face was somehow rugged and gorgeous at the same time, a few thick scars visible. They looked at each other for a moment before Jon spoke again.

"Bruce is still Batman?" He asked.

No response was a yes.

"Surprising. We were banking on Joker or Ra's finally canning him."

Jon grabbed onto the bars of the cell and stretched back, popping his back. God he really felt like passing out, but he wasn't gonna let Damian know that.

"So. What about you, pretty boy. I see bits and pieces of you in the news, but nothing that really clues me in on your life. Got a cute Girlfriend? Boyfriend? Finally unseated Tim for Wayne Enterprises major shareholder?"

Damian pushed himself up to a standing position, he crossed the distance to Jon's cell, reached inside and grabbed onto what little hold his bodysuit offered, yanking the Kryptonian forwards so his face was pressed to the bars. Damian leaned forwards to look him in the eyes, and Jon realized that he was still taller.

"You are the  _ last _ person who deserves to know anything about my life. You were raised better then this Jon! What happened to the bright happy boy I used to know."

"Lex Luthor murdered my father, and I held my mother's dying body, helpless to do anything," Jon respond, voice going cold as he glared at Damian. "You have no idea what hell I've been through, Wayne."

"Oh boo hoo. The big blue baby has had a bad life. I grew up in hell itself. I wasn't allowed to be a child, because I was forced to be an assassin. At least you had your mother and father as a child. You are a disgrace to your father's name and do not deserve to wear his shield."

Damian poked Jon in the chest, right where the red S sat, and then pushed him away. Jon retaliated quickly, grabbing Damian by the front of his armor and yanking him forwards, slamming his head into the bars.

"I could end you so easily. You think I need my powers to kill? No. The whole world fears me. All I would have to do is tell them who you really are and you'd be as good as dead. Don't fucking cross me,  _ Robin _ ."

Damian snapped his hand out, nailing Jon in the gut and causing him to let go.

"Enough!" A voice thundered.

Damian stepped away, turning to look behind him, as did Jon, his eyes focusing on the big dark figure of Batman, standing in the entry of whatever room of the batcave they had him tucked away in.

"What Superman and Superboy have done is enexcusable, but that does not make their trauma any less real then ours, Robin."

Damian dipped his head, looking at his feet. Batman focused on Jon.

"Your brother has made contact."

He tossed Damian something, a pair of handcuffs, Jon realized. Damian produced a key and unlocked the cell/cage, stepping in front of the doorway before Jon could escape. He handcuffed Jon, the metal tight and biting on his skin

"What the hell is this?!" Jon yelled as the skin being touched by the metal stung.

"Iron and kryptonite alloy. Not enough to kill you, or permanently injury, just enough to keep your powers down and keep you contained."

Jon stared at Bruce in horror, but allowed himself to be pushed forwards by Damian. He was led through the batcave, and noted that it was much different then he remembered, then remembered that he had heard something about Joker and Bane blowing the place up. They finally reached the section of the cave that was wide open, all the various bat themed vehicles off to one side, a sparing ring in the middle, and different acrobatic equipment to another side. Bruce and Damian just led him over to the huge monitor of the batcomputer. Bruce sat at it, tapping at it for a moment, before a video feed popped up.

On the screen was Conner, pacing back and forth. He looked stressed and his jaw was clenched tightly, Bruce cleared his throat to alert Conner and the man spun, relief instantly washing over his face when he saw Jon. Jon noted faintly that he was in the fortress, they rarely used the place except when they were interrogating someone or in moments like this.

"Kid! Jesus. Are you okay?!"

"Yeah, Kon. For the most part."

Conner whipped his glare to Bruce.

"No permanent harm has been done. I wouldn't stoop to that level, Kon-el," Batman explained lightly.

"What happened? Did Hood rat you out?" Kon returned to ignoring Bruce, questioning Jon instead.

"No, I don't think so. Just tripped the sensors and stuck around a little too long. They've gotten faster."

Damian snorted beside Jon, and he glanced over to see the man had replaced his mask.

"God, I would've killed him."

"I know."

Batman and Robin had both tensed at that, exchanging a look, then looking back up at Superman.

"What do you want for my brother, Batman?" Kon readressed Bruce, crossing his arms.

Bruce snorted, shaking his head.

"I'm not holding Superboy for ransom."

"You're not?" Jon asked at the same time Damian said-

"Wait, what?"

"I was unaware of his intentions in Gotham, especially since you broke our treaty without warning. So when he tripped the sensors I apprehended him in order to protect my city. Red Hood told me why he was here."

Conner didn't answer, just raised an eyebrow, glaring at Bruce.

"You're still going after Luthor?"

"Of course we are. You got a problem with that?"

"No. I cared about your father too-"

"Really? Then where have you been the past six years? Do you know how much easier shit would've been if you bats hadn't turned your back on us from the beginning?!" Conner snapped, getting closer to the screen. "I've done shit I never wanted to, just to keep my brother safe. Just to try to find a single lead on my father's murderer. And what did you do?! Sit in your pretty little cave and not concern yourself with the world outside your precious Gotham!"

"We never wanted to become the people we are now," Jon added softly, drawing Bruce's gaze.

"Why didn't you reach out to us?" Damian asked.

Conner scoffed and Jon just stared at him for a moment, then looked away, biting his lip, trying to quench the anger burning through him.

"Jon, no," Conner said, his voice firm, but concerned.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Damian?" Jon whipped back around to him, fully facing the shorter, slightly smaller man.

Damian stepped back in shock.

"I was 11 when my dad died! I shouldn't've had to  _ reach  _ out to anyone! Why the hell didn't you check on me?! You were my best friend! I  _ needed _ you. And you didn't even come to his funeral!! You know who did come?  _ Your _ friends.  _ Your _ Teen Titans. They came and you know what they told me? You were too busy! Too busy saving the world, too busy with Gotham. Too busy being a rich entitled asshole!"

Jon was yelling now, and Damian was practically cowering away, looking like a dog who was being scolded.

"And you wanna know what's worse?! When my mom died, Jason and Roy came to the funeral! They checked up on us, and they told me the same thing! You were too busy! That's when I gave up. Gave up on you. Gave up hoping that you'd come and save me from what I was turning into. From the nightmare I was living in. Gave up hoping that there was anything else for me. Because you couldn't be bothered to even  _ pay attention  _ to those around you."

Jon felt years worth of buried anger escaping him, and if he hadn't been handcuffed, he would've swung at the green eyed man in front of him. But as was, he stepped up so their faces were just a few inches apart.

"So don't act like this is my fault. Like you're innocent in all this. Because you aren't, and I'm not going to let you forget it," he snarled.

Finally he stepped away, still glaring down at Damian. He heard a tired sigh from Conner and glanced up to see the man rubbing his temples.

"Are you done?" He asked, looking up and making eye contact with Jon.

"Yeah."

Both Damian and Bruce were still staring at Jon in shock. Conner just sighed, flopping down in a nearby chair.

"Bruce. I want my brother back."

"What? Oh. Yes. I'll have Robin drive him to the edge of town. His powers should be back enough by then for him to fly home."

"Good."

Conner leaned forwards to end the call.

"Kon-el. I'm willing to help you catch Luthor."

Conner froze, looking up at the screen.

"What."

"I'll work with you to find him, and apprehend him," Bruce said, stressing on the word apprehend. "You're right. I should've been helping you since the beginning."

Conner and Jon exchanged a look. And both knew what the other was thinking.

"Okay."

Bruce smiled. "I'll send Superboy back with what information I have and a way to contact us more directly."

"Alright. Jon… be safe."

"I will, Kon. Don't wait up, I'll let you know when I get home."

Conner nodded, moving to end the call.

"Love you, kid."

"Love you too."

The screen went black. No one spoke. Jon was doing his best to ignore the biting pain in his wrists. He just wanted to go home.

"Damian, uncuff him."

"Father-"

A quick glare silenced Damian's protest. He pulled out the small key and walked over to Jon, not looking him in the eyes as he undid the handcuffs and stepped away. Jon rubbed at his wrists, instantly feeling so much better as the kryptonite mix wasn't strong enough to affect him if it wasn't touching him. Bruce was doing something on the computer, and Jon started wandering away.

He could hear Damian following him. Which was understandable, they currently had a very shaky truce, and he wouldn't let a potential enemy into his house, or even the fortress. He walked around the main area, smiling as he realized that the Batcar was still the same model as he last remembered. He glanced around, seeing the cases of suits and started walking over, slowly walking past all of various ones still in use, Batman and Robin's currently missing. He made his way past all of the old Robin suits, stopping in front of Damian's old suit, the long black cloak pinned up around the tunic.

"I remember this one."

"I remember when you used to wear a zip up jacket and jeans with holes in them."

Jon glanced over to see Damian standing slightly behind and to the side of him, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Yeah… that was forever ago."

"Yes…. Admittedly this new uniform suits you much better."

"Thanks…"

There was a pause and then Damian stepped forwards so he was level with Jon, who was still looking at the old uniform. Jon could feel Damian's eyes on his face. He could also feel strength sapping back into his body, slowly, not enough to offer him anything as powerful as hypnokinesis, or ice-breath, but enough that in a bit he'd be able to fly.

"You won't settle for just catching Luthor, will you?" Damian asked finally.

"No. And even if I would, Kon won't. Luthor was a thorn in his side before this nightmare started, and now…" Jon shook his head slightly. "It's been six years and he's never stopped looking."

"We heard about your deal with Savage."

Jon snorted, looking over.

"I didn't agree to that. He didn't ask for my approval… I don't like making deals with villains, Damian. Especially not people like Savage, but…"

He shrugged, trailing off, turning to walk away. Then he stopped, thinking of something.

"When the Justice League came after us… why weren't you two there?"

Damian started walking, back towards Bruce, expecting Jon to follow. He wasn't disappointed.

"We were in a bad place. That wasn't long after Joker and Bane got in here, so we were rebuilding… I had suffered a broken arm in the explosion, Father had several broken ribs…." Damian shrugged. "We weren't even asked."

"Wait what? Didn't Bruce have like, security measures for if my dad went rogue."

"For Superman, yes. Measures that would work for a singular Kryptonian. We're not stupid, we know that we wouldn't be able to take out both you and Kon-el."

Jon didn't respond as they had reached Bruce, who turned and held a file out to Jon.

"This has all my leads and possible information about Luthor. I don't know what you guys have already heard or checked out, so I just gave you everything."

Jon nodded, taking the file, tucking it under his arm.

"And these…" Bruce held up two earpiece communication devices. "Will provide a direct link to the batcave. I will warn you, the second you activate them, we can track your location."

"Good to know."

Jon shoved them into the pocket sewn in his uniform. Bruce stuck his hand out, and Jon shook it.

"Jon… I'm sor-"

"Save it, Bruce. You lost your chance."

Jon pulled his hand away, turning and walking back to the batcar.

"We'll be in touch!" He called over his shoulder.

A half a minute later, and Damian was jogging down the steps to the car, somehow activating it and jumping in the driver's seat. Jon got in the passenger side, making sure his cape was safely inside before the lid shut. The drive to downtown was silent, neither Superboy or Robin talking. Jon had nothing left to say to Robin, as far as he was concerned, the man sitting in the vehicle next to him was as much as a stranger as if he picked up a random person off the streets of Gotham and struck up a conversation with them. Robin was staring straight out the window as he leapfrogged through traffic. The tension was crackling in the air, thick enough Jon could've cut through it with a knife. But he didn't do anything to relieve it.

When they finally reached Gotham bay, Jon could feel his normal strength had returned, even without sunbathing. The second Robin had opened the roof of the batcar, he floated up, levitating a few feet off the ground, watching Robin jump out of the car and turn to face him.

"Superboy."

"What?" Jon raised an eyebrow, making sure the papers in the file were secure so he wouldn't lose anything on the flight home.

". . . You know you don't have to keep doing things this way, right? You can change, become a hero again. If anyone knows anything about that, it's me."

Superboy sighed and shook his head, dropping so he was only a foot off the ground.

"Rob. Life doesn't work like that for me, not anymore. You think things can go back to how they were? Kon and I've got too many fingers in too many pies, I back off… stop ruling by fear… more people are gonna start losing their lives. More then do now with how we operate."

Damian frowned light, reaching an arm out to lightly touch Jon's shoulder. He didn't shrug it off, despite his initial urges to slug Robin.

"Yes you can, Jon. I know for a fact you can."

Robin almost looked sad, but he pulled his hand away and stepped back.

"Take care, Superboy. I hope you find Luthor."

Jon nodded and turned, shooting into the air and taking back off to Metropolis, relishing in the feeling of his power rushing through him, the air past his face and body.

It took him a few hours to get back to the house, he landed on the back porch and walked through the door, into the kitchen. As promised, all the lights were off, and since it was almost two am, he assumed that meant Conner had gone to bed. He placed the file and comms on the kitchen counter, locked all the doors and then walked up the stairs, stopping in front of Conner's door, gently knocking on it before opening it.

"Kon, its me."

The man was out of bed in a flash, hugging Jon tightly. Just as quickly he pulled away, scanning the teen.

"Are you okay? They didn't hurt you?"

"No…. No I'm fine, Kon."

Conner breathed a sigh of relief, ruffling Jon's hair. Then he frowned.

"Are… are you okay?"

"Yes! I'm fine!"

Conner stepped away, flicking on the light beside his bed. Jon wasn't surprised to see he was just wearing boxers. He turned back to Jon, crossing his arms.

"Then why do you sound upset."

Jon sighed, walking a few steps to sit on Conner's bed. His brother sat beside him, waiting patiently.

"Bats brought up bad memories."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to go."

"Stop that. I knew the dangers as much as you did."

Conner sighed, tugging Jon into a side hug.

"I know… look, let's just go to bed, okay? Let's talk in the morning."

"Okay, Kon."

Jon let Kon kiss him on the head before standing and walking to.the door, closing it behind him. He walked to his room, changing out of his uniform. He took a quick shower and crashed in bed, hoping he would actually get a dreamless night for once.


	2. Everything is Changing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the best reference I can give you for Jon's current Superboy uniform is to legit just Google "Superboy Justice Lord". It's kinda like the images that will pop up, but I don't *think* I have the S shield on their uniforms??  
Kon's is more like the red/blue and black jacket uniform, just black/white and no shield.

Jon sighed. Well this was a bust. He turned and walked back out of the huge cement laboratory.

It only took him a short moment to focus in on Conner, who he knew was sat at work, boredly tapping away at his work. Conner worked at an insurance agency. The best paying job he could find for someone with just a highschool diploma. Jon also knew Conner would have his hearing focused on Jon, ready to come after his little-brother if anything happened to him.

"Conner, this place is a bust. There's so many layers of dust in here that my sinuses are gonna hate me for weeks."

Jon could hear a shuffle of papers.

"Well shit."

"You want me to torch it?"

"Only if there's any files or any equipment left."

"Alright. I'll be home in an hour or two."

Jon snapped his hearing back in to his surrounding area. It only took him an hour or so to burn the guts of the building out, making sure nothing was left that could provide evidence or help to anyone. After making sure nothing in the surrounding nature had caught fire he took off back to Metropolis.

He had just reached the city when he started hearing the commotion.

"What is he doing here?!"

"Somebody get the police to call Superman."

"Get out of Metropolis, Filthy Gotham Rat!"

"Is that Robin?!"

Jon immediately rerouted to where the majority of the yelling was coming from. He touched down in front of Town Square, where, on the base of the Superman monument, was sat Robin, feet dangling, his motorcycle parked a few feet away. He looked up when he saw Superboy, setting down the birdarang he was sharpening.

"We need to talk."

"Pretty sure your dad gave me communicators for that purpose."

"It doesn't help if you don't have them with you."

"I do have a life to live, Rob."

Superboy floated closer, he noted a fresh scar on Robin's face.

"Yes, burning down abandoned Lexcorp labs counts as a life," Robin said scathingly.

A small crowd was gathering behind Superboy, and were not very happy about the presence of Robin in their city. Jon could hear them complaining about it.

"I was supposed to follow up every lead I was given. I can't help that your people are digging up trash."

Robin didn't respond, glancing at the crowd.

"Is Superman-"

"Not available. Though you seem to believe that he's right there behind you."

The jab caused murmuring behind Jon. Jon had yet to look up the statue. He hated the thing with a passion, instead just fixing his steady glare on Robin.

"Can we talk in private?" Robin asked.

Jon stepped closer, walking on air so he was level with Robin. He held out his hand, and people started talking loudly behind him. Robin glanced at the growing crowd, and then stood, taking Superboy's hand. With a quick tug, Jon had pulled Robin to his side, arm going around him to keep him from falling. Robin instinctively put his arms around Jon's neck, holding on. It didn't escape Jon the awkwardness of this position, but it really was one of the easiest ways to fly with someone.

"What the hell, Superboy!" Some guy yelled.

Jon turned just enough to look behind him, giving his angry glare. The crowd immediately went quiet.

"I don't answer to you people. Superman and I have been working with Batman and Robin in order to catch Lex Luthor. You do want us to do that, no?"

They shuffled their feet and didn't answer. Jon just scoffed and shot into the air, not missing the alarmed shout from Robin. A short flight later, and Jon touched down in his front yard, letting go of Robin and starting to the front door. Conner's car was gone, so he must have gotten buried in work.

"Come on."

Jon walked up to the front door, opening it and leaving it open for Robin to walk through.

"This… I remember this house."

"Well yeah… it was left to Conner and I in the will, and since they had already paid it off, all we have to do is pay bills."

"By yourselves?"

Jon looked behind him as he heard the door click, seeing Robin pull off his mask and look around.

"Don't pretend you care."

Jon walked into the kitchen, grabbing his phone off the counter, and then the meatloaf from the fridge, setting it out and starting the oven preheating.

". . . I do care."

Jon stopped, turning to Damian.

"Since when?"

"Since your last visit. You were right, Jon. I seriously screwed up-"

Jon just held up his hand, stopping Damian, who stared at him in shock.

"Look, as much as I wanna hear you grovel, I need to call my brother and let him know what's going on."

Damian nodded, going to sit down at the dining room table. Jon started dialing his brother, leaning against the island where he could see Damian looking at his own phone. Conner picked up on the second ring.

"What the  _ hell _ where you thinking?!" Conner snapped immediately.

"Very good question. When I find out I'll let you know."

"Why is he here?"

"Said he wanted to talk."

"Why did you take him to the house?"

"To talk?"

"Jon…"

"Look, I'll make sure he heads home before supper, okay?"

Damian had looked up, but kept an emotionless expression on his face.

"I swear to God, Jon. If anything happens…"

"I'll beat you to it, Kon."

"Be careful."

"I'll be fine."

Jon hung up, walking into the dining room and flicking on the light. He set his phone down at the seat across from Damian, but reached up, unfastening his cape on both sides. He grabbed it before it could fall to the floor and tossed it over the back of another chair before sitting down across from Damian.

"Now. You were grovelling."

Damian, despite an offended look, nodded, but took a moment before he began talking.

"You were right. I should have been there for you since the beginning. You were my best friend, but I acted like my own, trivial, issues were more important than the fact that you had just lost your father. I knew I should have come to see you after, I should've checked up on you and been there to support you. But I didn't, and I got caught up with my own problems that you became an after thought…. Even when Lois…" 

Damian sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

"You have every right to be mad at me. I was a horrible friend, hell I wasn't even a decent human. I shouldn't have left you alone through all that. I'm so sorry."

Jon felt that familiar anger bubbling to the surface as he looked at Damian, the older man actually looked sorrowful, and Jon was despising it. Despising that he wanted to forgive Damian and get his old friend back.

He was lonely.

"Thank you," Jon practically whispered, nodding as well.

Damian didn't speak, just looked at Jon, he didn't look expectant, like he was waiting for forgiveness. He just… was there. Jon looked down at the table, stuffing his emotions back in the box where they belonged. His eyes landed on an envelope. Bills.

"Damn it."

He grabbed it and ripped it open, glaring at the offensive bill stored inside. Conner wasn't going to be happy.

"Everything okay?" Damian asked, concern filling his posh voice.

"Yeah, it's… fine…" Jon tucked the bill back inside the envelope, setting it next to the government child protective services letter they were ignoring.

Damian had his eyes narrowed, but didn't push it. Jon stood up as the oven started beeping, signalling that it was ready. He went over and put the meatloaf in, setting a timer. He glanced back and saw Damian looking through a file.

"Hey, don't snoop!" Jon snapped, but didn't take it from him, just started walking over.

"Where did you get this information from?" Damian looked up, he had a guarded look, his previous concern and openness gone, voice cold.

"That-" Jon snatched it away. "-Is from my brother's deal with the devil."

He placed it on the other end of the table, then walked away, grabbing a basket from the corner of the room.

"This is all the useless information we've been given over the years."

He dug a file out from the top and tossed it down in front of Damian. It was the file Bruce had given them, Jon had checked out all the leads, and they were all useless.

"You can take that back to your dad. I made copies of everything."

Damian glanced through it, noting all the marked out things, and scribbly notes on the edges of the papers.

"Do you do most of the work on this case?"

"Yeah. Conner works a lot during the day, you know, keeping the house afloat, so I do this for him. Anything that actually leads someplace, he tackles on weekends."

Damian hummed, watching Jon flip through a few files before adding them to the basket. He then sorted through the mail on the table, making a pile of things to put in the office, he finally grabbed the CPS letter and popped it open. Scanning over it briefly.

"CPS?" Damian questioned, leaning forwards on his elbows.

"Yeah, pain in my ass."

He tossed it on the office pile and then threw a stack of papers into the trash.

". . . Do you need any help following leads?"

"No, I'm a big boy, Dames."

"Well… If you ever do. . ." Jon glanced up to see Damian pull a page out of the file, fold it in half and then scribble on it with a pen he had found laying around. He tapped it and set it in the middle of the table.

Jon could tell it was a phone number.

"If you ever need anything, just call."

Jon sighed, dumping a bag of frozen broccoli into a microwaveable bowl and shoving it in the microwave, beginning it cooking.

"Why? Why now. It's not like we haven't had run ins before."

"You've never yelled at me before."

Jon scoffed and shook his head, walking back into the dining room. He walked around to the side of the table Damian was at and leaned back against it, scanning the man.

"I can't forgive you. Not that easily."

"I know. I don't blame you." Damian was looking back up at him, guard dropped once more.

"Then why try?"

"I don't know. Guilt? Regret? Not being able to sleep at night because I feel like it is choking me? I just needed to apologize, and if you never want to see me again. . . . "

"You can't fix me, Damian. There's somethings that don't fix."

"That's not true."

"I'm not you."

"Of course not."

They were staring into each other's eyes. Jon could hear Damian's heart picking up a bit, he could see the hopeful expression in his eyes. But he could also hear Conner's car pulling in the driveway. So did Damian.

"You and your brother aren't hopeless. No one is."

"Plenty of people are."

"No one who was born so purely  _ good _ is."

There it was again, that desire to crumple, to give in. To let Damian try to help him. He immediately strangled it and shoved it in the box with the rest of his emotions. But Damian had seen him hesitate, seen his walls crack just slightly. He reached over and put a hand on Jon's arm.

"Talk to me, Jon. I won't shut you out or leave you behind again."

The door opened before Jon could reply.

"Jon!?"

"In here, Kon."

Jon pulled his arm away, reaching out and grabbing the note with Damian's number, folding it and tucking it into his hidden pocket. Conner, dressed in slacks and a button down, walked in, glancing between the two.

"I thought you said he'd be gone."

"Supper isn't ready yet. I still got time." Jon shrugged and pushed off the table, grabbing his cape and pinning it back on.

"What do you want, Wayne?"

"I was just discussing the Luthor case with Jon," Damian responded smoothly, despite his knowledge that Conner was most likely listening the whole time.

" . . . Any new leads on your end?"

"Potentially. Father was looking into them before sending them your way."

Conner nodded, turning and walking away.

"Take him back, kiddo. I'll finish up food."

"Yeup."

Jon turned to Damian, who nodded and stood, pressing his black eyemask back on. A short hop, jump and a skip away and they were back at Town Square, Jon landing not far from Robin's bike. Robin looked up at him, opening his mouth to say something.

"Goodbye Rob…. Don't break anything."

"I'll try."

Damian walked over to his bike, it roared to life the second he touched a hand to where the key should be.

"Call if you need anything."

And he was gone.

Jon had a dream that night, that wasn't a nightmare. But it wasn't pleasant.

_ He was alone. He knew that without a doubt. He was alone, and something horrible had just happened. He couldn't quite remember what, but screams still echoed in his ears, and he could smell blood. _

_ Someone had died. _

_ And everyone had left him. He was powerless, his arms and legs not moving as commanded, his powers all escaping his grip. He could hear laughing over the screams. A man's voice. _

_ Lex Luthor. _

_ His father had just died. _

_ And everyone had left him. _

_ Jon knew this wasn't real, it was a dream. Not everyone had left him, he still had Conner. And at the time he had Lois. But his dreamself knew that everyone had left him, that he was alone and lost and no one was coming for him. Not his dad, not his mom, not Conner. Not Damian. _

_ They had all left him like Damian had. _

_ He started yelling, but the voice wasn't his. It belonged to a much younger person. It was his 11 year old self. He was yelling, and then he was sobbing, crying for someone, anyone, to come get him. _

_ "Jon!" _

_ It was a familiar voice. One Jon recognized, but in his dreamlike panic, couldn't name. _

_ "Jonathan!" _

"JON!"

Jon screamed as he snapped out of his dream. Sitting up quickly, he looked around and saw Conner standing in the doorway, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Are you okay? I heard you crying, and came to check on you."

Jon lifted a hand to his cheeks and realized he had actually been crying. He wiped the remainder of the tears away, dropping his hands to his lap. He felt sticky, he must've been sweating in his sleep, despite the cool morning breeze coming through his open window.

"Yeah… just a weird dream."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Conner walked closer, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"No… I'm fine."

In fact the dream was already slipping away, leaving Jon's memory. Except the voice at the end, that he was forced to retain.

"Okay… I gotta go to work. You remember you agreed to go paint at Mrs. Pier's?"

"Yeah. Yeah I remember."

Jon rubbed his eyes, yawning. Conner leaned over, kissing the top of Jon's forehead.

"I'll see you tonight…. You want the usual Friday takeout?"

"No, I'll make something, don't worry about it."

"Okay, kiddo."

Conner stood and walked out, letting Jon's door click shut behind him. Jon watched him leave, flopping back and staring up at the ceiling, trying to place that voice. He couldn't figure it out and it was driving him insane. He forced himself to get up, going and taking a shower before pulling on an old pair of jeans and a shirt he didn't care about, going to do the painting job that would pay for groceries for the week.

Jon wouldn't figure out who the voice that now plagued his dreams belonged to until nearly three days later. He was at one of his old highschool friends' house, having received a text explaining that her parents and sister were gone for some overnight academic thing, and then asking if Jon wanted to come over. The fact that this text was sent at 9:12pm informed Jon that this was nothing but a late night bootycall, and he accepted eagerly.

So he was laying in bed with this girl, watching some bad romcom, his tired mind drifting and trying to prevent him from slipping into a restless sleep. And it hit him. Like a bucket of cold water dumped on his head.

The voice was Damian's.

Not today's Damian, not the Damian who had knocked him unconscious and taken him to the batcave a few weeks ago. Not the Damian who had showed up four days ago and apologized and tried to help. No it was Damian six years ago. Damian from before this living nightmare had started. Damian when they had been best friends.

Jon felt like vomiting. Curse his memory for dragging up  _ that _ little snot nosed kid of all people. He blamed Damian, for coming back and trying to get involved again. For making him  _ want _ to let Damian in. He didn't have the right!

He only stuck around for another hour at his friends before making himself get up and go home, knowing sleep would be eluding him tonight. His mind was now running a mile a minute, calculating, scanning. Trying to figure out  _ why. _ Why now? Why Damian. Just why?

He had thrown away the piece of paper with Damian's number on it, not wanting to give himself that out. But of course his stupid enhanced memory knew exactly what the number was. So here he was, sat on his bed, a new text opened and addressed to Damian's number. It was nearing on midnight now, but Jon had no doubt the Gothamite was awake. Finally he just set his phone down and laid back on his bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. And then he sat back up, grabbed his phone, drafted and sent a text before he could change his mind again. He set the phone down, laying back down and trying to settle his mind enough to be able to sleep.

_ Damian? _

_ Yes? Who is this? _

_ Kent? _

Jon jumped the first time his phone chimed, having not actually expect to receive a text back so soon. When it went off the second time, he sat up, grabbing his phone to see what the messages were.

_ Yeah. It's me. _

_ What is the matter? _

_ Everything. _

  
  


Jon set his phone down, deciding to go get a cup of water, then maybe go on a late night jog to clear his head. He ended up flying all the way to the fortress and working out there for a while before coming up. It was nearly Dawn by the time he got back.

  
  


_ Do you wish to talk? _

_ Kent? _

_ Jon? _

_ I'm here if you need me. _

  
  


The last text was sent two hours after the other three. Jon sighed, collapsing in bed before responding.

  
  


_ I don't know what I need these days. _

  
  


He plugged his phone in, finally letting his body drift to sleep. He was instantly plagued with nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I'll probably be trying to post weekly!


	3. Seven Years in the Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I struggled for a while about putting this chapter so soon. It felt too early for a long time. And since it greatly deals with the founding plot, I worried about tackling it so soon. But the longer I thought about it the more right it felt. Especially since it had to be done for the rest of the plot to advance.
> 
> Change has to start somewhere.
> 
> ~content warnings for chapter 3~  
Violence, choking, sickness

**December 29th**

Jon was bored. Completely, irrevocably, unstoppably bored. Why was he so bored?

Because he had been sat in the snow for over two hours now, and if it wasn't for the fact that he actually didn't get cold, he'd be shaking in his boots. It was fucking cold, even he could tell that. He could see his own breath(though that wasn't surprising, when you can actually breathe ice it's pretty standard), and Robin, beside him, was literally shaking, teeth chattering as he shivered.

Oh yeah, the reason for being sat in the snow for two hours? The bats had finally found Luthor. Or at least they were about 90% certain they had found him, and they were currently staking out the hidden facility in lower Canada that they suspected him to be in.

Kon and Jon had been working with the bats for five months now. Five months of dealing with their shit, of playing wild goose chase. Jon chased most of their leads by himself, but had once or twice gone with Robin, and had stubbornly refused to let the man talk about anything other then the mission. He didn't need Robin tearing down any more walls. Finally they had gotten something good, that had led to this. Which was an all hands on deck mission. Robin was sat beside Superboy, Batman next to him, and Superman all the way on the other side of Bats.

Robin's teeth chattering was getting really annoying. And they didn't seem to be moving any time soon. Jon grumbled something under his breath, reaching back and unclipping his cape. Everyone's eyes snapped to him, receiving glares from all three, but he ignored them, pulling the white, thick and somehow dry, cape off and then throwing it around Robin, whose eyes widened.

"Don't say it."

Jon watched Robin pull the thick fabric around him. Within a few minutes his teeth had stopped chattering, but he was still shaking. Mission accomplished, Jon returned to ignoring him.

They sat in the snow for another half an hour before the guards switched out. Batman stood, turning to Conner.

"You and I will start from the ground and head up. Robin, you and Superboy start at the roof and work your way down. Clear  _ every _ room. When you find Luthor report in."

"Yep," Robin grunted.

He stood, pulling Superboy's cape back and giving it back to him.

"Kid." Conner jerked his head to the side.

They walked a few paces from the Bats, Conner's jaw was clenched and stress was obvious on his face.

"You sure you're okay with this?"

"Or course I am. Luthor has to pay. He's gotten away for six… almost seven years, Kon."

"I know… trust me I know. I just…" 

Kon put a hand on Jon's shoulder.

"I want my revenge, Kon."

He nodded, ruffling Jon's hair.

"Be careful, yeah?"

"You too."

Jon quickly hugged his brother before walking back to Robin.

"You want a lift?" He asked, bending backwards and popping his back.

"Preferably… my fingers are so numb I don't think I'd be able to operate my grapple properly."

Jon chuckled, holding his arm out. Robin stepped up close to him, arms going around his neck. Jon made sure he had a good hold on Robin before shooting up into the air, jumping more then flying to the roof of the warehouse like building. He let go of Robin and walked over to the roof access door, frying the lock with his laser vision and then pulling the door open. He turned to Robin.

"Age before Beauty," he said with a sweeping bow, having already scanned the nearby area for people.

Robin rolled his eyes but walked through the door, Jon followed, letting the cheap metal door bounce closed behind him. He wasn't terribly concerned about stealth. 

The first corner they walked around, they were met with bullets. Jon jumped in front of Robin, yanking the smaller vigilante behind him and letting the rain of bullets bounce off his body.

"Damn, I just fixed this!" Jon complained, looking down at his now shredded uniform.

"S-su-superboy!"

"Duh," Jon snarked before launching into action.

He grabbed the two nearest guards, bashing their heads together before throwing them at the others, knocking them down. A few swift kicks later and the group of five guards who had run to meet them were all unconscious. Jon just continued forwards, motioning for Robin to take the rooms on the left of the hall while he took the ones on the right. They were mostly empty, places they could come back to later. Once the top floor was cleared, they gathered all the guards, and dumped them in a room. Jon snapped the handle off the inside of the door and then locked it behind them.

Jon could hear gunfire and yelling somewhere else in the building. He looked over at Robin, who was waiting near the stairs to the third floor.

"I think you should go first this time," Robin stated, motioning to the stairs.

"Probably a good idea."

Jon walked down in front of Robin, he poked his head around the corner of the stairs and then pulled it back as bullets immediately came towards his face.

"You wanna take these guys, gorgeous?"

Robin gave him an unamused look.

"Alrighty then. Thought I'd offer."

A burst of speed, a few dents in the wall later and Jon had another pile of unconscious guards. They split off again, clearing this floor. Jon was pretty sure this was going to just be the same as the top floor, but on the second to last room, he pushed open the door to reveal a conference room, a few people sat at the table. But most importantly, a bald man that Jon instantly zeroed in on. Everyone at the table jumped up, eyes widening as they stared at him in horror.

"Hey, Rob!" Jon called, mainly out of courtesy.

He was already walking into the room before he heard Robin yell back. The people scrambled out of his way as Jon stalked over to Luthor. Six years and living on the run hadn't been kind to Luthor, he had aged severely, seeming to be a frail comparison to the man Jon remembered.

"Superboy… I knew this day would come…" Luthor said, standing.

Jon didn't respond, just dashed across the room, his hand closing around Luthor's throat. He lifted the man up, stepping forwards until he was pressed against the wall, making choking noises as he clawed uselessly at Jon's arm. Anger was burning through Jon, his breathing had quickened, and the edges of his vision were going red, a dull buzzing in his ears as he tightened his hand around Luthor's throat.

"Superboy!" Robin's voice broke through the buzzing, through the rage. "Don't!"

Jon barely glanced over. Robin was stood just inside the door, keeping everyone in. His katana was drawn, but he was focused on Jon, face determined.

"Why not? He deserves it. You know he does. And you know what we came here to do," Jon snapped, looking back up at the old man he was squeezing the life out of.

"What you came here to do. He deserves to pay, yes. But not like this! This will not bring any satisfaction, revenge won't fix things!"

"Bullshit. I'll be incredibly pleased to watch him die."

"You are better than this, Superboy."

Luthor had passed out from lack of air, and Jon knew exactly how long he had to continue squeezing until he would kill the man. 

"This isn't what your father would've wanted."

"You don't know shit about what my father would've wanted. You never even liked him!"

"No. Because I feared what he could become. Look at yourself, Superboy. You are exactly what I feared all those years ago! But you can change, just like I did. I know you can."

Jon looked back at Robin, who had lowered his sword, speaking with his hands now as he pleaded with Jon, desperation now on his face.

"Aren't you tired of all this death?"

Jon let go, and Luthor crumbled to the ground, unconscious, but still alive. Jon felt the strength that had come with his rage sapping from his body, and he felt something much colder settling into him.

"Batman… we've got him."

Jon just stood there over Luthor's body. He didn't help Robin tie up the other people in the conference room. He didn't help clear the rest of the warehouse. He just stood there. Even when Robin came and placed a hand on his shoulder he didn't move.

"I know it was hard, but you did the right thing, Jon," he was speaking softly, his voice kind. "Cold-blooded revenge isn't the answer, and often leaves you feeling worse."

"Superman won't be so easy to stop," Jon forced out, his throat was tight, and finally he glanced up at Robin, who smiled softly.

"Let's worry about Superman when he gets here, okay?"

Jon nodded. He was realizing what that cold feeling was. The feeling of failure. He had failed to avenge his father's death. Not only that, but he had chosen not to. The one task he had for the past six years. The one thing keeping him going. And he had let go.

He was going to be sick. He covered his mouth and turned away from Luthor, staring at the blank white wall on the other side of the room. He could hear Superman and Batman talking as they walked up, and saw Robin leaving to meet them. He just walked to the wall and braced himself against it, staring down at the baseboards. He heard the voices come into the room. Saw the three men walk over to Luthor, heard them arguing.

Boy he wanted to throw up.

"Superboy, are you okay?"

Jon shook his head and staggered out of the room. It only took him a moment to find the bathroom he had broken into on his way in. He leaned over to the toilet and heaved. Nothing came out, but he kept dry-heaving. When he finally felt like he wasn't going to actually vomit, he walked over to the sink and splashed ice cold water in his face, soaking his sleeves and part of his shirt in the process. He was patting his face dry when he realized someone was in the doorway. He looked up to see Robin, concern clear on his face.

"What?" Jon grumbled, looking up at his pale face in the mirror.

"Are you okay?"

"Honestly? No."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now."

Robin nodded, glancing back down the hall.

"We convinced your brother to not kill him, we're going to take him and question him when he wakes up, just to make sure he doesn't have any further devices like…"

Robin trailed off, looking back at Superboy.

"And then we'll be detaining him properly where he will remain for the rest of his life to serve as punishment for all his crimes."

"He deserves to die."

Robin frowned, stepping over to Superboy. He pulled off his glove and reached his hand up to Jon's face. Jon ducked away.

"What are you doing?"

"You don't look okay, Superboy. I was checking your temperature."

"I don't run fevers, Robin. I never have."

"Allow me this one small thing."

Jon sighed and ducked his head just enough for Robin to press the back of his hand to Jon's forehead. Robin's hand was freezing cold, Jon almost pulled away in shock.

"Robin, are  _ you  _ okay?"

Jon grabbed Robin's hand from his forehead, curling his warm hand around Robin's freezing cold one. Robin glanced down at their hands then back at Jon's now concerned face.

"It's like, 12 degrees, Superboy. This armor is designed for protection and stealth, not warmth."

Jon actually laughed, he rubbed Robin's hand between his for a moment. He paused, pulling Robin's other glove off and then returning to rubbing both of Robin's hands, trying to warm them.

"Do you want my cape again?"

"No, I'm not a child."

"Even an adult can get sick from the cold."

Jon, despite Robin's protests, pulled the cape off and threw it around Robin, making sure it was good and tight around his shoulders.

"Jesus, you're like a space heater."

Robin put his hands on Jon's arms, stepping a bit closer.

"Well, when I literally contain a solar flare inside my body…"

Robin just hummed, closing his eyes slightly. Jon was considering wrapping his arms around him when Batman appeared at the doorway.

"Boys, let's go," he grumbled, barely seeming to care about what he saw when he looked in.

"Yes, Father."

Robin opened his eyes and stepped away, going to take Jon's cape back off.

"Naw, keep it, all it does for me is theatrics. You actually need it right now."

Robin nodded and pulled the cape tight around his shoulders like a blanket. He turned and walked out of the bathroom, and Jon followed. They found Batman and Superman stood by the stairs back up to the roof, Luthor thrown over Superman's shoulder. They all walked up to the roof where the Batplane was waiting, Superboy followed inside, immediately feeling the heatwave inside the small aircraft.

"Oh thank God!" Robin groaned, shivering slightly.

"Robin, take us back to Gotham, please."

Robin headed to the cockpit, disappearing as the door slid shut. Jon watched as Conner dropped Luthor into a seat along the edge of the plane. Batman quickly ziptied Luthor and then strapped him into the seat. Conner walked over to Jon, looking concerned.

"Are you okay?" Conner asked, putting a hand on Jon's arm and pulling him as far away from Batman as he could.

"Kon… I'm sorry. I couldn't do it-"

"No, shut up, I don't care. Look, we got him, Jon. We got him. I almost fried his brains out the second I saw him, but I chose not to. He's still gonna pay."

Jon stepped into Conner, wrapping his arms around his brother's mid-section. Conner hugged him back instantly, neither speaking for quite a while. Jon wanted to cry, but he didn't. There'd be plenty time for that later. Finally Conner pulled away, tipping Jon's head up to make him look him directly in the eyes.

"Listen. I am not mad at you. I never wanted you to become like this. To become like me. You made a good choice, and I'm so proud of you," Conner said, his voice soft. "You made a very mature choice."

Jon nodded. Conner offered him a smile and ruffled his hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

"We have a long flight, feel free to any food, and get some rest," Batman grumbled from beside them.

He had settled himself in the seat across from Luthor, glaring at the unconscious man. Conner nodded, but sat a few seats away from Batman. Jon looked around, grabbed a few packs of protein cookies and two water bottles and walked into the cockpit.

"Hey."

Damian glanced over his shoulder before reaching up and flipping a few switches.

"Don't touch anything…. But sit down."

Jon carefully slid into the co-pilot seat, watching Damian flip a few more switches before slowly pulling the plane up, breaking through a layer of clouds. A few more buttons later and he let go of the controls, spinning his seat to face Jon.

"Hungry?"

"Starving."

Jon chuckled and passed over two of the packs of protein cookies and a waterbottle. Damian pulled his gloves off and began eating, glancing over at the plane's computer screen occasionally. 

"Oh, here."

Damian sat forwards, pulling Jon's white cape off and holding it out.

"I can actually feel my toes now, so you can have it back."

Jon grunted his thanks, setting the cape on his lap and looking down at his poor uniform.

"I'm gonna have to completely ditch this uniform."

"You should get stronger material for it."

"Probably…."

"Do you sew them?"

"Yeah. Took a lot of tries to make it actually look good."

Damian chuckled, setting his waterbottle down as the computer started beeping at him. He grabbed onto the controls, pulling the plane up over another huge section of thick clouds. For most the flight, Jon just sat there, staring out the front window, letting himself rest without actually sleeping. Sleeping sucked anyway, so overrated.

They got to Gotham hours later. Jon and Conner personally escorted Luthor to the GCPD medical wing. The arrangement Conner and Batman had agreed on until a secure enough facility could be made in Metropolis. He had to receive medical attention before he could be put in a cell, as he likely had a crushed trachea and Batman was actually very shocked he hadn't died from the severe damage Jon had caused anyway. The GCPD asked far more questions then Jon was used to, as Metropolis police lived in total fear of Superboy and Superman.

"What the hell happened to this man?!" The doctor exclaimed as she was examining Luthor.

"This man is Lex Luthor, doctor, he's a murderer," Superman grumbled, arms crossed.

"This man is now my patient and he is under my protection. I want you two out of here!"

"It's my fault. Superman didn't touch him," Jon said, stepping forwards. 

The doctor glared at Jon for a moment before beginning to list off all of Luthor's injuries.

"It will be a miracle if he lives through this."

"It will be a miracle he doesn't deserve then," Jon stated, glaring back at her.

"You don't own this city, Superboy. We don't fear you here. Now leave!"

She pointed to the door, Jon scoffed and turned, walking out of the small medical cell, Conner on his heels. He found Robin waiting outside in the main entry of the precinct. The man looked up when they walked in.

"I'm supposed to make sure you two leave," He said, and yet sounded like that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"We understand."

Conner walked out the door. Jon followed, but paused with the door open, looking back at the green and gold clad vigilante.

"You coming, Rob?"

"Yeah."

Robin walked out the open door. Just as Jon shut the door, Conner was beginning to levitate, his short black leather jacket flapping in the wind. Conner always had preferred jackets over capes. He looked at Jon, who gave him a wave, and then shot into the air, flying towards Metropolis. Jon turned to Robin.

"He won't say it. But thank you. Thank you for helping. I don't think we would've ever found Luther without you guys."

"You're welcome… it was long overdue anyway… and again. I am sorry for what happened between us…"

"I know Rob… And I'm working on being able to forgive you."

"So what are you gonna do now? I mean, your personal vendetta is over…"

"I don't know…. Maybe I'll finally get an actual job and work towards going to college."

"We both know this is an actual job."

"Yeah…"

"Be careful, Suoerboy."

"You too, Robin."

They shook hands before Robin stepped back, and Jon took off into the sky, following his brother back to Metropolis.

Conner had reached the house first, Jon could tell by all the lights on, but his door was shut. Jon just took a shower and threw his uniform into the corner of the bathroom, telling himself he'd deal with it in the morning. When he made it back downstairs, Conner was collecting every piece of Lex Luthor related paper and putting it in their basket. Jon helped him, checking the office for any stray papers. They carried the basket outside to the dark yard, setting it in the sad remains of their fire pit and lighting the whole thing ablaze. They stood there, side by side in the freezing January air, watching six years of work go up in flames.

"So. . . What now?" Jon asked, looking over at his brother.

Conner was silent for a minute, hands in his pockets.

"I have absolutely no fucking idea."

Jon looked over in shock.

"I've spent the past six years only having two goals in mind. Raising you, and catching that bastard. . . We finally got him . . . And soon you won't even need me. So now I have nothing. No goals."

"Hey. Stop that." Jon turned to his brother. "I'm still gonna need you. You're my brother, Conner. Hell you're practically my parent at this stage. I'm always gonna need you."

Conner cracked a small smile, bumping Jon's shoulder. They grinned at each other for a moment before Conner sighed and looked back down at the fire.

"Conner. . . I'm tired."

"You can go to bed."

"That's not what I meant."

Conner raised an eyebrow.

"I'm tired of all this." Jon motioned at the file. "I'm tired of everyone constantly being afraid of us. I'm tired of killing and maiming and. . . I'm tired of being alone."

Conner sighed lightly, grabbing Jon and pulling him into a hug.

"I'm so sorry Jon. I'm sorry I dragged you into all this. You were such a good kid, I shouldn't've let you go down this path with me."

Jon felt tears slipping down his cheeks. There was this empty feeling inside of him that was slowly being replaced with what could only be described as guilt, years of bad actions and morals finally getting to him. His trauma finally settling in as he had nothing to chase after in order to push it aside. He was seriously fucked up. He just clung onto Conner, starting to sob, the first real crying he had done in years.

It was a shock when he realized Conner was crying too. They cried on each other for a while before Conner pulled away, wiping his tears away and clearing his throat.

"We should get some rest."

Jon nodded, rubbing the sleeve of his flannel over his eyes. Conner kissed Jon's forehead before letting him turn and walk back inside the house. Jon slowly meandered up to his room, he crawled into bed, tossing and turning for a while before falling into a fitful doze, never really staying asleep for long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will kill for Conner and Jon. They have the best relationship. If anyone is curious, it's greatly modeled after my relationship with my own sibling. We've had some painful trials like these boys (though no one has died, luckily), and I love having them. 
> 
> The forehead kissing is something they do with me and it's really sweet.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


	4. The First Step To Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Here's a Thanksgiving present, for all my American readers, or just a gift bc I'm feeling generous for literally everyone else.
> 
> Also I needed to catch up with timelines :)
> 
> So this chapter was both great and really hard to write. Somethings came easier then others and I'm hoping you guys can feel what I was trying to portray.
> 
> Enjoy!

**January 9th**

_ Meet me at the Memorial? _

_ I'll be there in an hour. _

Jon sighed, looking down at his phone and the text conversation for a moment before pocketing his phone. The conversation had happened an hour and a half ago. Meaning he was a half an hour late.

He, was Damian Wayne.

Jon still didn't know why he had reached out to Damian instead of just talking to Conner. But he had, asking for Damian Wayne, and not Robin. He had just about given up waiting and was turning to walk away from the memorial when he heard an engine, and turned to see some old mustang he should probably know the name of pulling up and parking along the side of the road leading through the cemetery. Jon put his hands in his pockets, watching as a dark haired man got out, locking the doors and tightening his trench coat before beginning to walk over, the frozen grass crunching beneath his feet. 

"Sorry, there was an accident, and there's only so much I can do, time wise, even with flying the helicopter."

Jon remembered the Wayne helicopter. He remembered Alfred dropping Damian off at school in it. He remembered Damian dropping out of their school two days before his dad died.

"It's fine. A little warning would have been nice though."

"Sorry," Damian said with a wince.

Jon looked down at Damian. His hair was messy and wind-blown, green eyes bright. He was wearing a black wool trench coat, and a grey and black scarf under that. Jon could see black slacks and some fancy brand of shoes as well. He turned and walked back.

The Memorial, as Jon and Conner referred to it, was the mausoleum which contained Superman's body. The grass around it was scattered with dying flowers, pictures, candles, and various mementos to Superman. It was Superman's grave, but not Clark Kent's.

Clark Kent and Superman weren't the same.

Jon hated being here. He hated it as much as he hated the statue in town square. He hated it so much that he felt like he was going to vomit every time he lingered by it for more then a few minutes. Every time he looked at it, it felt like someone had stolen his breath, and hollowed him out, leaving just an empty shell of a person. He was beginning to think he always felt like that because he had never properly dealt with his father's death.

Damian stood beside him quietly. Jon wouldn't be surprised if this was the first time he had been to the Memorial. He just stood there, hands in his pockets, looking at the white marble mausoleum.

"We don't decompose."

"What?" Damian looked up in shock.

"Kryptonians. When we die, we don't decompose. I broke in once . . ." Jon gestured at the mausoleum. "Nearly had a heart attack, he looks exactly like how he did the day he died. . . Preserved like a statue."

"That's kinda creepy. . . So even after seven years?"

"He'll still look like Superman."

Oh yeah, had Jon mentioned? Today was the seventh year anniversary of Superman's death. Two weeks and it would be the three year anniversary of Lois's. January fucking hated Jon. New beginnings? Go suck ass, optimists.

Damian reached a hand over, gently placing it on Jon's arm. Jon didn't look at him, just turned and walked away, further into the cemetery. He could hear Damian trailing after him. He walked around for a while before stopping in front two graves. Lois Lane-Kent, and Clark Kent.

"We had to keep the secret, even after he died, just to protect Conner and I's identity. So Clark Kent isn't dead, just missing. A week after Superman's funeral, we put an empty casket in here. Our own little private funeral for dad."

Damian looked over, frowning lightly.

"Damian, I'm telling you this because . . . I realized I've never really actually dealt with this. With their deaths. With everything. I just shoved it down and focused on catching Luthor. For six years. That's all I had. And now I have nothing, and it's all coming back up and god I don't know what to do."

Damian stepped closer, putting his hand on Jon's arm again. 

"I don't have any experience in this field, and admittedly, I'm not good with emotions. . . But if you wish, I know Father has been through similar experiences . . . He may be able to offer some counsel."

Jon felt his pride flare and he prepared to say no.

"You need to talk to someone about all of this, Jon, and we both know it has to be someone who knows who you truly are."

Damian was looking at him with such concern that Jon felt himself cracking again. His shoulders slumped and he sighed lightly.

"I know."

Damian hadn't dropped his hand, and he gently squeezed his arm.

"Would you like me to discuss it with my father?"

"I guess . . . You're right, I need to talk about it. It's just . . . Gonna be hard."

"Yes, it is. But it needs to happen."

Jon sighed again, he turned to better look at Damian.

"Damian."

"Yes?"

"Thank you. Honestly."

"Of course, Kent."

"And . . . I think I've forgiven you . . . I can't keep pushing away the few people in my life who know what actually happened. Even if they weren't there when it happened," Jon said, cracking a small smile to show he was joking.

Damian frowned lighty before realizing he was joking and he chuckled.

"I'm glad."

Jon smiled slightly but glanced away, looking back at the graves. 

"Hey . . . Can you give me a few minutes?"

"Yeah, I'll be back at my car."

Damian turned and walked away, Jon watched him for a bit before looking back at the graves. He took a shaky breath, he felt like throwing up. Or crying. Or maybe both. Something inside of him was cracked and emotions were beginning to spill out, his heart ached and he felt coldness spreading through his body.

"I'm sorry, guys. I know you wouldn't have approved of the things I've done. I know I've disappointed you, and ruined dad's legacy. . . But I'm gonna try to change. God am I gonna try . . . And we got Luthor. We finally got him, Dad. He's gonna spend the rest of his life paying for what he did."

Jon closed his eyes, feeling tears slip out.

"I miss you guys. So much."

He stood there for another moment before turning and slowly making his way back to where Damian's car was. He found the man leaning against the hood of the black car, looking at his phone, one glove off as he typed at his screen. He didn't look up until Jon was a few feet away, and he smiled lightly. Jon walked over and leaned next to him, looking out over the frozen cemetery.

"Damian."

"Yeah?"

"I have another favor to ask."

"Hmm?" Damian put his phone down, turning to look at Jon.

"You were right. I'm tired of all the death, I'm tired of being seen as this fearsome thing that no one will look at or talk to. I just . . . I'm tired of being lonely. I wanna change."

Damian nodded, looking serious.

"Then I will help you . . . But I don't think it will be that difficult, for two reasons. One. You never started as a violent person, you were raised with good morals, and for the first few years you were a hero, you were a good one. And two. You just made the choice on your own, which means you feel remorse for your past actions and are willing to change."

Jon sighed, looking over, silent for a moment as he considered his ex-friends statement.

"The most difficult thing will probably be relearning how to fight without seriously injuring, since you have gained a lot of strength and new skills since your youth," Damian mused, staring into the distance now.

"Let's go get coffee."

"What?"

"Come on, man, even I can tell its fucking freezing. Let's go get coffee."

"I will ignore both your avoidance of the topic at hand and the potential intended meaning of this and agree."

"Hey, I just want coffee, but if you wanna take it as flirting then feel free."

Damian rolled his eyes and dug out his keys.

"Get in the car, Kent."

He unlocked the door and climbed inside, turning it on before reaching over and unlocking the passenger side. Jon got in the still cold car, but at least they were out of the wind now.

"Do you have a location in mind?"

"Uh, yeah, take a left into town."

Damian hummed and started driving. Jon noted faintly the 80's rock station that was playing softly, but didn't say anything, just gave Damian directions to the coffee shop he had in mind. He managed to find street parking, and the two walked over to the small coffee shop. 

"What do you want?" Jon asked out of reflex, barely glancing at the menu.

"I don't think so, you've previously mentioned your current financial situation, so there is no way on Earth I'm letting you buy my drink," Damian shot back, not taking his eyes off the overhead menu.

"Well. . . Okay."

"So the better question is what do you want?" Damian finally looking over at him.

"You paying?"

"We just discussed this."

"We just discussed how I wasn't allowed to buy your drink, we did not discuss you buying mine."

"Well I am."

"Fine."

Jon stepped forwards, quickly ordering his usual cappuccino and then turning to Damian, waiting for him to order. He did, paying for their drinks, and then they walked over to the pick-up counter, standing there in silence.

When they were hands their drinks, Jon walked over to a little table tucked into the corner, sitting so he could look out both of the large glass windows. If Damian's habits hadn't changed much, he would prefer the other seat so he could see both entrance and exits of the building. Damian just sat across from him without a word, setting his gloves on the table and undoing his coat. Jon sipped on his warm drink, watching the people walk around their normal daily lives. Out of habit he sought out Conner, finding him talking to a co-worker, discussing something about customers. Jon smiled to himself slightly, it was such a normal boring conversation that he never expected Conner to be having.

Damian was raising an eyebrow at him, but didn't ask, just started tapping at his phone. Drinking his coffee and working. Jon looked at him. At his gorgeous eyes, and handsome face, and he realized something. He knew literally nothing about Damian. Sure he had done some digging quite recently, trying to figure out somethings he was curious about, but hadn't found much out. The articles he could find mostly stupid stuff that the Wayne family refuted a day later.

"So, Damian."

Damian instantly set down his phone and looked up, expression carefully schooled back to neutral.

"Yes?"

"I like, know nothing about you now, whereas you know probably pretty much everything about me because I've done literally nothing interesting for the past six years other then pursuing a personal vendetta."

"I assure you, I know less than you think."

"Anyway. If I ask some questions will you answer?" 

"Potentially."

Yeah so Damian was still Damian, good to know.

"So you're like . . . Nineteen? Twenty, right?"

"Twenty."

"So what does twenty year old Damian do? Do you go to college, do you work for your dad now?"

"I am currently attending college, majoring in psychology."

"Oh wow, nice."

Damian hummed, sipping his caramel latte.

"Okay, bachelor's or masters then?"

"Masters, assuming I don't die between now and then"

"Damn." Jon couldn't help but laugh a bit at the all too real joke.

Damian smiled at him, glancing down at his phone, turning it on to check for notifications. Jon was trying to think of another question that wouldn't seem too much like digging. It was pretty difficult, everything he wanted to ask was rather personal. More personal than he felt he had the right to ask at the moment.

"You mentioned potentially attending college, do you have any particular interests?" Damian asked, looking up.

"I don't know . . . I haven't thought about it much . . . Okay, well no, I have thought about it, but I haven't found anything I really want to go for. Besides, it's not like Kon and I have the money to pay for it anyway."

"Theoretically, if you could study anything you wished. What would it be?"

Jon narrowed his eyes, but thought for a minute, trying to figure out, think what he enjoyed most in Highschool, what he tested highest in on his SAT.

"Chemistry, maybe? I always did enjoy that in school. Plus I've got the memory for it."

Damian nodded and hummed.

"But I'll probably work for the next year, I graduated early anyway so if I go I'll start with kids my age anyway," Jon said with a shrug.

"Any jobs in mind?"

"Probably a restaurant or something of the sort. Then I can make friends and shit, you know, I'm a little lacking in that field at the moment."

Damian chuckled. "I actually was unaware of that fact."

"Well, surprise."

"A job of that kind is usually a good start, and generally have flexible schedules."

"Yeah."

Jon sipped his cappuccino. His phone chimed and he pulled it out to see what the message was.

  
  


_ I don't wanna cook. Wanna suit up and grab some food while on patrol? _

_ YES _

_ Um, but. . . Damian is here, I don't know when he's gonna leave. _

_ I wish you could see my raised eyebrow. _

_ I know I know. I just needed to talk and he seemed like the person who could help. _

_ Okay.  _

_ I'll see you tonight, Kon. _

_ Okay, Jonno. _

Damian was watching Jon text with interest, listening to his phone vibrate, and seeing the younger teens thumbs flying over the keyboard. But he didn't ask, just waited patiently until Jon set his phone back down.

"Any further questions?"

"Oh plenty, but some I can't ask here, and some I probably just can't ask."

"Hmm."

Damian sipped his coffee and raised an eyebrow. Jon just grinned back. Then he frowned.

"Hey, actually, I do have one."

"Go ahead."

"Why did you drop out? Of our school, seven years ago."

Damian's face dropped. He looked down at the table for a moment.

"I believe the reasons were involving some issues that arose, and would require me to be gone for months at a time."

"Oh. . ."

"That is part of the reason I was not around when your father passed. . ."

Jon nodded, understanding a bit better now.

"I . . . Was in East Asia when everything happened and did not find out until days after, and I know that doesn't excuse my complete absence, but for a while it was out of my control."

Jon felt himself beginning to close off, trying to reject and pull away from the conversation. His coping methods didn't want to deal with this, but the logical side of his mind knew he couldn't keep running from this forever.

"And then after that, it became more convenient to re-enroll in Gotham Academy, so I could be closer in case of emergencies. . . I also graduated a year early," Damian was still talking, telling him rather interesting information.

"Really?" Jon forced himself to ask.

"Yes, I was always ahead of classes, and even with my evening activities it was easier to do so."

Jon nodded like he was interested.

"Are you okay?"

"You know, not particularly. I'm trying real hard not to shut down right now."

"Would you like to change topics?"

"Probably a good idea."

Damian went silent for a minute.

"Alright, stupid question time."

"What?" Jon frowned at Damian.

"What's your favorite color? Mine is yellow."

"Uh . . . Red, I guess."

"Favorite food?" Damian questioned, he looked genuinely interested.

"Fresh Mango."

"Interesting, mine is Tofu Parmigiana," Damian said, pausing a moment as he thought. "What's your favorite TV show?"

"Reality or fiction?"

"Both."

"I'm a sucker for  _ Say Yes to The Dress _ , or  _ Queer Eye _ . And I guess I like old tv shows like  _ Hogan's Heroes _ and  _ Mystery Science Theatre 3000 _ ."

"What?"

"God, you don't know what MST3 is? Dames, we're gonna have to fix that real soon. It's the perfect lazy afternoon tv show."

Damian hummed, rolling his eyes slightly. "Sweet or Salty?"

"Sweet. And you didn't tell me you favorite show."

"Admittedly I do not watch much TV, but when I do, I prefer fiction."

"Like?" Jon pressed, leaning forwards on his hands. 

Damian hesitated. " _ Sherlock _ . . . And I will confess to having watched a tremendous amount of  _ Good Omens." _

Jon laughed, grinning at the green eyed man across from him.

"Really??" 

Damian hummed in response, finishing the last drink of his latte.

"So, what about-"

Damian stopped as his phone started vibrating. They both looked down at it. Jon didn't recognize the contact, someone named Kate. The picture displayed on the screen was of a cat. Damian sighed through his nose.

"Of course," he muttered. 

Jon was having this really strange feeling run through him as he watched Damian give him an apologetic look and then pick the phone up, swiping to answer it.

"What?" He answered, not cold, but not exactly bright and friendly.

Jon forced himself not to listen. Usually it wouldn't even be a thought, he just would accidentally hear both sides of the conversation, but he specifically tried not to, picking up his own phone and busying himself doing something.

"Well, I have no idea. I haven't been home in nearly a day. . . I do have a life, Kate. . . . Shocking. I thought Alfred gave you the code?" 

Damian glanced up at Jon, absently spinning his coffee cup. He sighed again.

"776904. Now can I go? And don't tell father I gave you it. . . Do you think I give a fuck what he thinks? . . . Okay harsh . . . No I'll be back tonight for work, I was helping a friend."

Jon smiled lightly, so he did count as a friend.

"Go to hell, Kate . . . Whatever, we all know Tim is your favorite . . . Goodbye, Kate."

Damian pulled his phone away from his ear, hanging up, then looking at Jon who had an amused look.

"Sorry about that."

"It's fine."

Damian looked like he wanted to ask another question.

"And for the record, in case you were curious, I didn't eavesdrop. I actually don't make a habit of listening to other people's phone calls."

Damian smiled lightly, nodding.

"Can I ask who Kate is?" Jon asked before finishing his drink, trying to not look too interested.

"A relative. I believe she's Father's cousin? I didn't try to keep up with how the relationship works. You've met my family, they multiply pretty regularly."

Jon laughed at that, feeling another wave of some emotion he didn't want to deal with. Damian smiled at the happy noise.

"Okay . . . So I should probably go. Kon's gonna get off work in a little bit and we were gonna grab supper and do some patrolling," Jon explained as he looked down at the time

"Mmm. I'm sure that will be fun."

"Well nothing much ever happens in Metropolis. We've uh . . . Kinda scared away crime."

"I'd be impressed if it wasn't for how you did it," Damian said gently.

"Yeah I know."

Damian stood, grabbing Jon's coffee cup. 

"Do you want me to drive you home?"

"Naw it's fine, I can get there faster than you can, and beside you probably should get headed home too if you're patrolling tonight too."

Damian nodded. He walked away their trash and threw the cups away, and then joined Jon by the exit door. They walked out and back towards Damian's car together.

"Well . . . Thanks for coming Damian, I really do appreciate you being willing to help."

Damian smiled lightly and nodded.

"Of course, Kent. I will talk to Father when I get home. But for now, I'm sure you know this, but try not to kill or seriously damage."

"Yeah, I will."

They had reached the black mustang. Jon followed Damian over to the driver's side, watched him unlock the door before turning to Jon.

"So, I will be in touch."

"I assumed."

Damian nodded. "Good luck tonight."

"Thanks. Stay safe."

They smiled at each other and then Damian turned and got into the car. Jon stepped back onto the sidewalk, and watched Damian back out and then pull away. He turned and walked for a few blocks before darting into an alley and shooting into the sky, flying towards home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Change had begun!


	5. Second Chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning--
> 
> Blood, self-surgery, drug use, kidnapping, hostage situations.

**March 17th**

  
  


Jon was bouncing nervously. Literally bouncing. Like he was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, arms crossed as he hugged himself. He was waiting for the giant ass batcave doors to open, and they were taking forever.

He wasn't nervous because he was going into the batcave. He'd been there several times in the past month and a half, for various reasons. The majority of them were, like today, for his weekly counseling session with Bruce. It was so strange, talking about everything that had happened in the past seven years, and even stranger telling everything to Bruce Wayne of all people. Damian and Alfred had both helped on various occasions. Alfred had that wisdom that came with having dealt with Bruce for 40 years, and the level headedness to give a practical solution to whatever the problem was. Damian, literally studying psychology, had the scientific knowledge and answers for everything. Bruce was like a mix of the two.

Talking to Bruce did have a calming effect. The man would prompt questions and then listen while Jon rambled out his answers. He had even let Jon cry on his shoulder a few times. And after every talk, Jon came away feeling better, another piece of his shattered mental state glued back into place. He still wasn't anywhere near a healthy mental state, but he was already doing better. Bruce had commented once how impressive it was how Jon coped, stating that for everything he had been through, he actually wasn't doing that bad. The first session had mostly been sitting in awkward silence for thirty minutes before Bruce slowly started getting Jon to talk about his coping mechanism of throwing up walls and rejecting emotions.

This was probably about their sixth session, last time they had talked about Jon's anger, and Bruce had warned in advance that they were going to be talking about his parents this week. So Jon was rightly nervous. He didn't know how he would react.

The big doors started opening with a sudden grinding noise. Jon jolted in shock, then glanced around, making double sure that no one was around before slipping through the doors. As soon as he was through, they started closing, but he didn't stick around, just shot down the long hallway that led directly into the main area of the batcave. When he got there, the first thing he noticed was that the Batcar was gone. The second was the sounds of sparing, wood smacking against wood. He glanced around, noting that the Batman suit was missing, and that Bruce wasn't at the batcomputer either. He then spotted the source of all the banging and grunting. Over in the sparring ring were very similar figures, one just slightly taller and more wiry than the other.

One was, of course, Damian. He was dressed in tight sweatpants and a grey tank top that was clearly drenched in sweat. He was barefoot and had no protective gear, just two wooden batons in his hands. The person Damian was sparring against was dressed in black leggings, like gymnastic pants. He had a t-shirt on, which was also soaked with sweat, he was equipped similarly to Damian, barefoot, no gear, two wooden batons, but his were slightly longer, and he held them much different then Damian, more in the middle of the stick. When Jon got closer, he realized this other person, with black hair and blue eyes, was Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing. 

He watched them sparring, seemingly unnoticed. They were incredibly evenly matched, what Damian had in muscle and skill with the baton, Dick matched with speed and agility. Finally, Damian got a good smack to Dick's forearm that caused the man to yelp and spring back. Damian lunged, but Dick ducked under it, practically tackling Damian around the stomach and knocking them both to the floor. There was a small squabble until Dick had Damian pinned in a headlock

"No fair!" Damian huffed out, smacking the floor twice to get Dick to let go. "We agreed no tackling."

"We have a guest," Dick explained, releasing his brother, his chest was heaving.

"I am aware. He would've waited."

Dick gave Damian a withering glare and pushed himself up, smiling at Jon.

"Hi, Jon! Bruce had an emergency, he should be back soon though."

"Hey."

Jon watched Dick help Damian up, and then scoop up their forgotten batons. They both slipped under the ropes of the sparring ring and Jon trailed after them to the table where they had water bottles waiting. Dick hopped up to sit on the table, letting his feet swing, while Damian just leaned against it, looking at Jon for a second before chugging half his waterbottle. He then set it down and looked at the Kryptonian again.

"Good job," he huffed out, chest moving quickly as he was still out of breath.

Jon gave him a minorly confused look before realizing what he must be talking about. A day ago there had been a hostage situation at a bank in a city not far from Metropolis. Jon had handled it flawlessly, without a single casualty, and the only injuries were purely accidental.

"Oh, thanks."

Damian offered a small smile, finishing his waterbottle. Dick was watching them with interest, and Jon focused on the man. Dick looked older then Jon remembered him, of course. But he had aged wonderfully, no less handsome then Jon remembered him.

"How have you been, Richard?" Jon heard himself asking.

"Oh, keeping busy. Playing police and vigilante at the same time doesn't really leave much downtime."

"Yeah that makes sense," Jon said with a nod.

Both men were breathing normally now, and Dick hopped off the table and stretched.

"I'm gonna go hit the ropes, you wanna come, D?"

"No, I will stay here and talk to Jon until Father returns."

Dick clicked his tongue, gave the two finger guns and then walked away. Jon watched him walk over to the section of the workout area that was covered with thick mats. He grabbed a long rope that was just a few inches off the ground and started climbing up it, using it only his arms. Jon watched as he twisted the rope around his hips and leg, then let go, balancing upright due to only the rope twisted around him. Jon should probably stop staring now.

He looked over at Damian who was smirking lightly, glancing back from Jon to watch Dick for a moment before pushing off the table.

"Circus kid," he said with a headshake.

Jon glanced back to see Dick falling, his eyes widened and he started to step forwards, ready to catch the man, just when Dick's hand snapped out and grabbed the rope, catching himself and then using his momentum to flip to another rope a few feet away.

"And a show off. Come on, if he falls then he deserves it."

Damian turned and walked away, heading down a corridor. Jon followed obediently, floating behind Damian without thinking about it. They entered into what appeared to be the medical wing, and Damian walked over to a tall set of drawers. Jon watched him grab a few things and then walk over to a cot that was sat in a corner, a mirror on the wall beside it. He sat down on it, peeling up his sweaty shirt to reveal a bandage covering a section of his stomach and ribs. He gently peeled off the gauze patch, wincing slightly as it got stuck over the injury itself.

When he set it down, Jon could see it was bloody, both gross dried blood, and fresh. The cause of all the blood was a large abrasion surrounding a thin line of pink stitched up skin. Blood was coming from the wound, red and thick. Jon could smell it and he decided he didn't appreciate the smell coming from Damian. The man cursed and grabbed a couple gauze pads, after pulling gloves on, and gently dabbed away the blood, looking in the mirror as he examined it.

"Damn. Hey can you do me a favor?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell Alfred."

Damian then grabbed something from a small tray beside him, a small bottle of something. He popped it open with his mouth and then cautiously poured it over the injury, using the gauze in his hand to keep it from running past. He covered the injury with the gauze, cursing under his breath as he set the bottle aside and grabbing a thin curved needle with a long strand of thread attached. With the skill that someone gains only with practice, Damian slowly started stitching himself up. Jon watched in horrified fascination, watching the thin needle easily puncture skin, and how easily the thread slipped through the hole it formed. Damian made a small knot after every pass, and then just moved down, patching up another area, his eyes trained on the mirror he was sat in front of.

Slowly Damian stitched up every spot that wasn't tight, and red thick blood was no longer trailing down his side. He cut the string and recleaned the area, hissing in pain again as whatever disinfectant he was using stung the open skin around the stitches. He glanced up, making eye contact with the still fixated Jon, who watched as he patted the area dry, sprayed it with an antibiotic solution, and then gently placed a new gauze patch over it.

"Are you okay?" Damain asked as he pulled his now bloody gloves off.

"Y-yeah . . . I've just never seen anyone do that before."

"Consider yourself lucky then."

Damian stood, wobbling slightly before walking back to the drawers, putting some stuff up, and setting other things to disinfect. He threw away all the bloody gauze and his gloves. Jon watched as he dug around in a drawer full of pill bottles, found one and popped two tiny pink pills. He put the bottle down and walked out of the room like nothing had happened. Jon trailed after him, concerned.

"How did you get hurt?" He asked, he had thought the man's armor was specifically designed to keep him from such injuries.

"Would you believe it if I told you Damian Wayne got shanked?"

"No."

"Well that's good because I didn't. No I was out two days ago, my armor has sustained considerable damage and some Joker goon managed to find a crack. He got his knife in pretty good before I got him off."

"Jesus, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I probably shouldn't've spared with Grayson. . . "

Damian was leading him off to the corner where Bruce had set up a small table and a few chairs for his weekly sessions with Jon. 

"Probably wasn't a good idea."

Damian sat down and motioned for Jon to sit in the chair next to him. Jon pulled his cape to the side and then sat, letting the white cape drape over his lap. Jon folded his hands and set them on top of the table. He was going to have bad memories associated with this table after the end of all this.

"So where did your dad run off to?"

"Commissioner Gordon needed him for something, so he went. Instructed us to have you wait for his return."

"Damn, was hoping to chicken out of this one."

Damian raised an eyebrow at him but didn't question it. He was starting to speak when they both heard a car and turned to see the Batcar pulling in, Batman easily parking it in its spot. He hopped out seconds later, calling a greeting to Dick, who was now messing around with a set of the gymnastics rings, doing flips and catching himself easily. He pulled off the cowl completely, dropping it on the back of his chair in front of the batcomputer. Both Damian and Jon watched him walk closer, pulling his gloves off and running a hand through his hair.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Jon."

"It's okay, duty calls."

Damian started standing just as Bruce sat.

"I'm going to head out for the night," he told his dad.

"Alright, be careful, don't pull those stitches."

Damian nodded and otherwise didn't react, walking away. Jon watched him then looked up at Bruce. They were about the same height, and Jon would say that Bruce was probably a little larger than him, big broad muscles, built like a brick house, similar to Red Hood. Of course Jon was stronger, but that was due to his powers.

"So Damian told me about the bank. Good job."

"Thanks . . . "

"You've been improving quite a bit with your fighting in the field."

"Well. . . It hasn't been easy."

"I know, that's why I'm praising you."

Jon felt something warm run through him and he smiled at Bruce, who returned it, then rested his forearms on the table.

"So, are you ready to begin?"

"I guess . . ."

Bruce nodded. They began talking, cautiously, slowly, about Jon's parents, their deaths, and how he apparently avoided truly coping with their deaths. He ended up crying again, but Bruce just gently reminded him that crying was okay and moved closer to rub the teen's back as he sobbed.

"I miss them, Bruce," Jon said with a sniff, rubbing his nose on his sleeve.

"I know, Jon. They were your parents, they were the most important people in your lives and you lost them at a rather young age. It's good to miss them, and it's good to allow yourself to miss them."

Jon nodded, sniffing again. They talked for another half an hour, finishing just before an alarm started beeping. Bruce sighed, having just stood, he walked over to the computer, not even sitting down, just tapping a few buttons before pulling his cowl on. Jon, curious as always, floated over.

"What's the matter, Robin?"

"I got a new villian who might tickle you funny bone, Batman. Riddler wannabe."

"God damnit. You need backup?"

There was a solid minute long pause.

"No. Not for these dumb puzzles. Riddler's puzzles were harder than this, and I was 14 when we put him up. But no. There is a minor issue."

"Go ahead."

"She has three civilians hostage. A doctor and a nurse, and a young female who is injured and being tended to by the other two."

Bruce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Robin, how is she holding them hostage," Jon interrupted.

"Timed rifles. I have about three minutes to get through this maze of hers and deactivate the timers," Robin explained, then hesitated. "Unless . . ."

"No."

"Come on, I'm good but even I can't stop a speeding bullet."

"Wait-" Jon was realizing that Robin was actually considering what he had been implying.

"No, Robin. He's not even supposed to be in-"

"Father. We're giving him a chance, right? Allow this to be his first chance with us."

Bruce sighed and glanced over, fixing Jon with a glare, assessing him.

"Are you good? Emotionally? I will not let an emotionally compromised asset go into the field."

Jon took a moment before he answered.

"Good enough to go save people."

Bruce nodded. Robin rattled off his address, and then the line went dead. Jon started to levitate, ready to zip out.

"Superboy. Be careful, and bring  _ everyone _ back alive."

Jon nodded, turning and shooting down the hall and out the already open doors. He made it to the location of the hostages, peering through the window of the old house they were sat in the living room of, only the two adults had guns trained on them, and the young girl was passed out. Jon simply pulled his elbow back, and then slammed it into the glass, shattering it before easily crawling through. The woman screamed and covered the young girl with her own body. Jon just simply froze both guns before walking over and grabbing them off their tripod's, snapping each barrel in half and throwing the pieces. The hostages were staring at him in fear.

"Hiii, Robin sent me. You're safe now."

"This girl needs proper medical attention!" The woman exclaimed.

"Right of course."

Jon walked over, but the woman maintained her protective stance. He sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Listen, ma'am. We don't have time, she has several broken ribs and a punctured lung, as well as a shattered right shoulder blade. I'm here to help, so please, let me take her to the hospital."

The nurse frowned and nodded, stepping away.

"I'll take her and come back for you two, but you can probably go ahead and get out of here."

Jon carefully picked the girl up, trying not to jostle her much. He punched out the lock of the door and then carefully flew to Gotham Hospital, taking the girl to ER. She was immediately rushed back. He just turned and walked away, flying back to the building. Robin was outside with GCPD and a girl dressed in purple and green. The doctor and nurse were being checked by EMT's. Robin noticed Jon floating off to the side and waved him over. Jon floated over, setting down gently beside Robin, not missing the shocked looks from GCPD.

"Superboy, thank you for the help!" Robin said, giving Jon one of the signature bat smirks.

"Yeah, of course. I took the third hostage to Gotham General, she had pretty extensive injuries."

Jon ignored the GCPD, who were looking like they wanted to ask questions.

"Alright. Good job."

Jon could smell blood on Robin. He narrowed his eyes, focusing more of his senses on him, noticing how stiffly the man was moving, how tight his voice was as he returned to talking to GCPD. Then he got an idea, blinking and scanning Robin with his x-ray vision. Of course. Jon rolled his eyes and stepped closer, ducking his head to whisper in Robin's ear.

"You have two cracked ribs on the right side."

"That explains somethings. I'll be fine until I can make it back, Superboy."

Jon narrowed his eyes, locking eyes with the shorter man. They glared at each other for a half a minute before Jon nodded.

"Tell Bats I headed back."

"Alright. I hope your talk with him went well?"

"As well as it could've for what we were discussing."

"Alright, stay safe."

"I'm not the one with stitches and cracked ribs, Rob."

Robin smirked slightly. "I'll be fine."

Jon rolled his eyes and stepped back, levitating a foot off the ground. He gave Robin a lazy salute before shooting into the air, flying back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So expect another update on Thursday, I have a specific deadline for the last chapter of this fic ;)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


	6. They're Just Bitter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, Teddy, you're getting a front row spons.
> 
> THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT TO ME. Someone made fanart of this fic(last chapter specifically) and I want everyone to see it.  
https://www.instagram.com/p/B5sfStXHmV9/?igshid=1s2r26iw870i0
> 
> So yeah, go check that out, give them love because they deserve it 🖤
> 
> In other newsssss, hopefully a fun chapter? Dunno. It's a bit shorter. Enjoy!

**May 20th**

Drowning really wasn't on Jon's to do list today.

Sure he could go into space just fine? But throw him in the ocean and oh boy there's gonna be issues.

The reason for him drowning?

Aquaman. It was always Aquaman.

He had just been flying back to Metropolis after popping by Hawaii(He wanted fresh fruit, damnit), when he started hearing this huge commotion in Atlanta. He swung by, and found some robot invasion happening. He started helping, cursing as he had to abandon his fresh fruit, and disappointed that he had chosen today to travel light. Traveling light meant no phone, no wallet, no comms. Just the cash he needed for his fruit. So he couldn't call the bats and report this in, he just had to assume someone else had noticed and alerted the Justice League.

He had forgotten the Justice League hated him.

So imagine Jon's surprise when he was in the middle of destroying a robot and suddenly found himself being doused with water and shoved into a fountain. Did he mention how drowning really wasn't in the plan for the day? Then again, neither was robot invasions.

He was suddenly yanked out of the water and punched square in the jaw, causing him to fall back on his ass in the water, coughing and spluttering. Yelling burst into his hearing, lots of voices overlapping each other. He was having trouble picking them out as he was more concerned about coughing up water. He had yet to recover when he was again hit, this time with something long and metal to his stomach. He grunted, but of course it affected him little. He caught a flash of gold on his left and threw up his arm, blocking a third hit. His other hand shot out, grabbing the handle of the trident he was being assaulted with. 

He yanked hard, throwing his attacker into the water beside him, smoothly standing and spinning, pulling the trident out of their grip, twirling it around like a baton, holding it in a ready position over his attacker, who he recognized as Aquaman, previously Aqualad.

"Superboy,  _ NO _ !" a familiar voice thundered.

Jon stopped, noting faintly that his vision was going red. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the laser vision away, and forcing the anger down. He opened his eyes and looked around. Underneath him was Aquaman, eyes wide with fear. Surrounding the fountain was a large portion of the Justice League, including quite a few familiar faces. But most important was Robin, standing on the edge of the fountain, ready to interfere. Jon immediately felt guilt run through him, turning his face red. He forced himself to relax, stepping back away from Aquaman.

"Rob. . ."

"Come here."

Superboy glanced down at Aquaman who was hurriedly backing away. He dropped the trident into the water, reaching up to brush his soaking wet hair back. He waded through the water over to Robin, who was a good foot taller now. Robin looked slightly disappointed, but didn't say anything for a moment, holding eye contact with Jon, who stared up into the black domino mask covering his eyes. He'd never say it, but the gold and green uniform looked so much different in the daylight, the black under-armor was visible under the green capeish coat he wore. Gold trimmed both the armor and the coat, creating interesting patterns. Gold colored guards were placed on his forearms, and his gloves were black and green. It looked fucking amazing, but do much different with sunlight bouncing off it.

"Robin . . ." The familiar voice of Wonder Woman said, sounding tense.

"Its okay," Robin said, glancing over his shoulder. "He means no harm."

Jon looked past Robin to see Diana standing behind him, arms crossed, looking pissed. There was the sound of a grapple line, and a few seconds later, Batman pushed his way into the circle, looking confused as hell, then he saw Jon and immediately sighed.

"Superboy. . ."

"To be fair, I didn't know you guys were already here-"

"Don't."

Jon looked back up at Robin, who was shaking his head slightly.

"Why are you here?" Jon looked at the speaker. The Flash. But with red hair. Huh. He really had missed some things.

"I was in the neighborhood, heard the robots, and swung by to help."

"Why didn't you radio in?" Robin asked.

"Didn't have the comms on me. Wasn't really planning on stopping anywhere."

Robin sighed and reached up, rubbing his temples.

"Sorry."

"It's no matter."

The tension in the air was thick and uncomfortable. Jon's boots were waterlogged. It was also uncomfortable. He was focused on Robin alone. He didn't really give a shit about the rest of the Justice League, just the Gothamite in front of him.

"Can I get out of this fountain now?" He asked softly.

Robin snorted and stepped out of the way. Jon sat on the edge of the fountain wall and swung his legs over, pulling his soaked cape over and wringing it out.

"Okay, let's get back to work. Lantern, Shazam, take to the skies, clear everything and make sure there's no more robots. Flash, Cyborg, go check the outskirts. Everyone else, go start on cleanup and check with civilian casualties," Batman ordered, distracting everyone easily. "Wonder Woman, Aquaman, Green Arrow, Martian Manhunter. Stay here please."

Everyone scrambled to follow Batman's orders, taking off to do their various tasks.

"Glad to know everyone here still listens to bats," Jon muttered to Robin who shot him an unamused look.

Jon decided not to mention that he had already checked and couldn't hear anymore rust buckets clambering around. He also decided not mention that he had done a scan of Robin and noted a dislocated shoulder.

"What the hell is going on, Bats?" Arrow asked, crossing his arms.

Jon didn't even want to know how old Arrow was at this stage. Maybe he and Batman were competing to see who could keep going the longest. Billionaires.

"That's not really a question for me," Batman said, looking at the two boys sat on the edge of the fountain.

Superboy felt everyones eyes immediately snap to him. He decided to go with his usual cocky attitude and just bent down, pulling off his boot and dumping water out of it, seemingly unconcerned.

"Robin?" Wonder Woman asked after several minutes of silence.

"As I'm sure you have all heard, we apprehended Lex Luthor in January."

"I also heard that Superboy almost killed him."

"Wow like you've never done that before, Robin Hood," Jon shot back without thinking, giving Arrow his best bitch face.

He didn't expect the slap he received from Robin. It actually stung. He stared at the vigilante in shock, hand going up to his cheek.

"That is ENOUGH!" Robin yelled, jumping off the fountain to spin to Jon.

"You can't come grovelling at my feet, asking for my help, telling me you want to change, and then do shit like this! This is not changing. You are remaining bitter about things that you have brought upon yourself and I am fucking tired of dealing with you acting like a bitch. Apologize to Green Arrow,  _ now _ ."

Jon didn't move, staring at Robin, almost in fear. He truly looked pissed as he scolded Jon like a puppy who had chewed on his slipper.

"Superboy!"

Jon jolted into action, feeling his face going red. He looked over at Green Arrow, who had his arms crossed, looking closed off and cold.

"Sorry . . . That was uncalled for," he muttered, just loud enough that the man would be able to hear it.

Arrow grunted in response. Jon turned his eyes back Robin, who was still glaring at him.

"And Aquaman."

"He attacked me first!"

Robin's eyes narrowed slightly. Jon shook his head.

"I ain't apologizing for shit I'm not sorry for."

Wonder Woman scoffed, shaking her head. Robin reached forwards, grabbing Jon's uniform and pulling him forwards until their faces were inches apart.

"You will when I'm here," he growled.

They glared at each other for a minute before Jon caved. Something in him really hated having Robin mad at him. He turned to look at Aquaman.

"My apologies."

"Whatever."

Robin let go of Jon, sighing.

"Well, we can put that on the list of things to work on," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Jon glanced up at Martian Manhunter and immediately regretted that choice, feeling a twinge of a headache.

"I thought you weren't supposed to read minds without permission," Jon growled, feeling his anger flare.

"My apologies, Superboy. But you have, previously, intended ill-will on the Justice League. I merely wished to make sure you did not have the same intentions now."

"Well why don't ask next time instead of inviting yourself in."

Manhunter dipped his head slightly. Everyone was silent, staring at him.

"I can't help but feel like you are having a mental conversation," he commented, glancing at Robin.

"Superboy, are you truly trying to turn back from your current violent ways?" Wonder Woman asked, stepping closer.

Jon sighed. So he had been right.

"That's the goal."

"And Robin has been helping you?"

"Yeah. For the past few months."

They all exchanged a glance. Wonder Woman walked over, bent down and hugged Jon. He sat there stiffly, staring at Robin over her shoulder. The man smirked at him.

"I'm sorry," Diana whispered. "I can't help but feeling that I failed you. I should have been there for you."

Jon hugged her back, letting his eyes close. He didn't comment, he didn't know what to say.

"What about Superman?" Green Arrow asked.

Wonder Woman pulled away and looked down at Jon, waiting for his answer.

"He's . . . Trying. He's having a harder time then I have, but we're working on it together."

"Batman, you've been involved in this?" Wonder Woman asked.

"Yes, but mostly its been Robin. I just provided some counsel for both parties."

They all went silent, looking at each other again, doing that damn telepathy thing. Robin reached a hand down and squeezed Jon's shoulder, but didn't look at him, obviously involved in whatever conversation they were having. Man he'd love to know what everyone was saying. At one point Robin and Aquaman locked eyes, glaring at each other for several minutes. Aquaman snorted and turned, walking a few strides away.

"Robin," Batman chided, but clearly wasn't that concerned about whatever Robin did.

Robin snapped his eyes to his mentor, eyebrow raising. Batman's face remained neutral for a minute before smirking slightly.

"Fine."

Robin returned the smirk, and turned to Jon.

"Come on," he started walking away.

Jon raised an eyebrow at Batman.

"Whatever just happened, I'm not sure I liked it."

"Go with him," Batman said, waving Jon off as he turned to grapple away.

Jon shrugged and stood, following Robin away from the Justice League people he didn't want to deal with anymore. He was still soaked and miserable, but hey, at least the League hadn't tried to kill him. Robin was a few paces away, waiting patiently.

"Come on, I was given permission to let you help."

"Who said I wanted to help."

"You did."

"Yeah, I guess you're right . . . They're all okay with this?"

"Wonder Woman and Batman were both onboard, and let's face it, no one else really needs a say in such matters."

"And what exactly am i helping with?"

"Clean up! We're gonna put those big muscles to work, Supey."

Jon stared at Robin, who was grinning at him.

"You are taking way too much pleasure in this."

"Yeah."

"And clean up? Wow! Alfred would probably faint if he heard that you actually know how to clean up!"

Robin reached out to smack Jon on the arm.

"Shut up, its not like I'm gonna go help with civilians. You know how much of a people person I am."

Jon laughed. "I suppose that's true."

They started walking, finding the nearest robot. Robin disconnected the computer system from it before instructing Jon to cut it into small pieces and take it to a spot just out of town, explaining that Green Lantern would gather it all up later and take it to a parts salvaging facility. They chatted while they worked, and with Jon's powers they made progress quickly. Every time a Justice League member passed, they gave Jon a dirty look, but left the two alone for the most part, having apparently been informed of what was going on.

"Am I gonna have to issue an official apology to all of the Justice League now?"

"No, they're just prideful about getting their asses kicked. They'll get over it."

Jon laughed slightly, grinning at that. It was mid-May, and the Wayne's had been helping Jon for four months now, and the progress Jon had made in those short months were astounding. To the point that Conner literally wouldn't shut up about how proud he was. Some writer at the  _ Daily Planet _ had even written an article about Superboy's changes and improvements. It was really odd to be in the paper and it not being for having done something illegal. Jon had also made good progress with his mental health, but was nowhere near even kind of normal. He and Bruce had gone down to every other week now, on the condition that Jon call him or Damian if things started getting bad.

Jon had also actually gained a bit of a normal life, having started a job at a local, privately owned Italian restaurant. The owners were these two wonderful Italian older folks, the man, the head chef, loved all the wait staff, a small team of teenagers and young adults, and constantly would sneak them food. The woman, his sister, was a little harsher on the wait staff, making sure they actually did their jobs properly, but she loved to bring sweets for them to eat on break, and was always available to help if things started getting crazy. Jon honestly really enjoyed working there, and even just the past few weeks had made some decent money. Conner had refused to let him pay anything other then groceries or Netflix, so Jon pulled about half of his pay check for household things, while the other half and all his tips went straight to savings. And gas, as he had started having to drive into town to keep from raising suspicion.

Conner had also been trying to get out of their bad habits, but since he refused to talk to Bruce more then once a month, and didn't have Damian coaching him, it was taking him a lot longer then it was Jon. But it was okay, and Jon was there to support his brother every step of the way.

"Well . . . I suppose that's all we need your help with."

Jon raised an eyebrow at Robin, but he was right, all the clean up had been completed, and Jon had no ties to the League, so he didn't have to stick around for the meeting that he knew would be coming after everyone regathered.

"Yeah . . . Hey what time is it?"

Robin tapped something on his glove and a holographic screen popped up.

"Back home it is six twenty-three."

"Damn. I gotta get going. Kon's probably worried sick."

Robin nodded, stepping forwards and holding his hand out.

"I'll make sure to put a good word in for you with the League."

"My knight in shining armor."

Robin sighed through his nose lightly. Jon laughed and shook his hand.

"See you around."

"Most likely."

Jon stepped back before shooting into the air, flying back to Metropolis. He wouldn't arrive until after seven pm, and the second he walked through the door, Conner was hugging him, asking a million questions.

"Are you okay?! I saw so many posts about you and the Justice League and . . . God. I didn't know what was going on. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, Kon. I'm fine," Jon said with a chuckle, hugging Conner tightly.

"Ew, why is your uniform wet?"

"Well, because I got tossed into a fountain. Do I smell stroganoff?"

"Yeah, come on, let's get you supper and you can explain everything."

Conner quickly got and reheated some beef stroganoff for Jon and they sat at the table. Jon ate for a bit before explaining everything that had happened.

"Damn."

"We knew we couldn't avoid them forever."

"No, but I had hoped that it would wait a little longer."

"Sorry, Kon."

"Its not your fault, kiddo."

Conner rubbed a hand across his short hair, going silent as he stared at the table.

"Alright. I'm gonna go patrol for a few hours. You take a shower and get some rest. Take the night off."

"Okay."

Jon watched Conner stand and walk away, he smiled to himself, finishing his supper quickly. Maybe life would turn out good in the end for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He just wanted his fruit :(
> 
> Oh also here's the best idea I can give you on what I'm trying to make Damian's armor look like.
> 
> https://images.app.goo.gl/5wyEySfKYTSGG5uP6


	7. One Step Forwards, Two Steps Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: Substance use.
> 
> Everyone: Yay! Progress!
> 
> Me: :) :) :D 😈

Jon was high.

Like airplane high.

And no he wasn't in the sky. He was high on drugs. Specifically weed.

See Jon had discovered pretty early his sophomore year of high school that he couldn't get drunk. However, weed still hit him hard. So, poison of choice since that first party was weed. 

Being high was so much fun.

Jon had gotten a text around dinner time from another one of his casual sex friends, that he had been given some good weed by a friend who owed him, and invited Jon to come over and "hang out". Jon, of course, accepted. It's not like he didn't have any reason not too. Nothing ever happened in Metropolis, and Conner was out of town trying to rekindle friendships with some of his old Teen Titans pals. And its not like he had a relationship tying him down or anything.

So he went over, got fairly high, watched shitty movies, had some amazing sex while still watching shitty movies, and then took off towards home. Flying of course. Flying while high was fun. So was sex while high. Jon didn't get home until late, the skies were dark, stars beginning to pop out. And he was loving it.

He landed on the back porch and walked through the unlocked door into the kitchen, flipping on a light and beginning to dig around in the pantry for snacks. Munchies were still hitting hard. He found an unopened package of Oreos and silently thanked Conner for being the best brother. He tucked his oreos under his arm, found a Dr. Pepper in the fridge and started into the living room to curl up and watch bad reality tv until he passed out.

Now if Jon hadn't been high, he would've noticed upon walking in that there was a light in the living room already turned on. He also might've noticed the car in the front driveway. Or how the wood door that they always kept shut was already open when he got to the house. But he was high, and didn't notice any of that.

What he did notice, however, was the incredibly attractive man sitting in the armchair, watching him. He had an immediate moment of panic, thinking it was Conner, before remembering that Conner was on the otherside of the country. He relaxed, then realized, "oh wait. Who the hell IS in my house?" And took a closer look.

"Damian?" He asked, squinting slightly.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Damian looked pissed, he was sitting with his arms crossed, one leg on the other, looking more business man then Jon's current only real friend.

"Uhhh. At a friend's? Why the hell are you here?"

"I called. Three times."

Jon shuffled his snacks to pull out his phone and find that Damian had indeed called three times, and texted multiple times.

"Why?" Jon asked. They weren't exactly on best friend terms yet, not on the "panic if they don't text back" level anyway.

"I needed your help. But it is no matter, we solved the issue anyway." Damian was clearly pissed. "Now care to explain why you ignored me for four hours."

It was an order, not a question.

"I told you I was at a friend's."

Jon flopped down on the sofa, popping open his Oreo's and shoving one in his mouth.

"And what were you doing that was so important to cause you to ignore me?"

Damian was really digging that point in.

"Smoking weed and having sex," Jon replied without thinking, his drugged mind not letting him process out how Damian might take that.

He immediately regretted it, watching the range of emotions run across his face. First was shock, then an emotion Jon couldn't name, then indifference, and finally, disappointment. He frowned at Jon, whose face was going red, sober enough to know that he shouldn't have said that.

"Sorry," he muttered, looking down at his lap.

"What for? I wanted to know what you were doing, and you answered truthfully. You're old enough to make these choices, and to deal with the consequences."

"You're not mad?"

"Oh believe me. I am. You made a dumb choice, Jon. What if something had happened in Metropolis? Superman is miles away, and probably not focusing at all on this town. He left you in charge and you went and did stupid shit, leaving yourself incapable of defending your town."

Shame was burning hot in Jon's veins now. Damian was right, of course he was. But Jon still felt himself bristling, trying to think of how to defend himself.

"But of course, I'm sure you don't regret it. After all, you got to do drugs and have sex! What else could a teenage boy want!"

Damian stood up, snatching up a jacket that had been on the back of his chair, he started towards the door. Jon rushed to follow him, stumbling over his feet slightly, his previous calm from the weed now disappearing into a panic.

"Damian, wait!"

Damian stopped, hand on the door handle. He turned back to Jon, eyebrow raised.

"You have a rebuttal?" He asked, putting his hand on his hip.

"I . . ."

"I didn't not think so." Damian was pulling the door open. "Now I'm leaving, I don't have to stay here and watch you eat Oreos and deal with you smelling horribly of weed."

Jon's reflexes were still fast enough to launch him across the room to slam the door shut. Damian looked at him in shock.

"You're right . . . I didn't think about Metropolis. I was just thinking about my evening and what pleasure I could get out of it. It was stupid and I shouldn't've left the city unprotected like that."

Damian's jaw clenched as he looked up at Jon. Jon could tell his face was red, and he would bet his eyes still were. He didn't know why he was fighting so hard to get Damian to stay, he just didn't want the man to be mad at him. And he didn't know why he wanted that either. Damian wasn't responding, and he wasn't looking at him anymore, his head was turned away, eyes closed. Jon removed his hand from the door, stepping back.

"I know you're mad at me . . . But," Jon dropped off. He really wanted to ask Damian to stay, but he didn't really have the right.

"Spit it out, Kent," Damian snapped.

"You could stay?" Jon finally asked.

"No."

Jon's eyes snapped up, making eye contact with Damian, he opened his mouth to speak, but Damian quickly interrupted.

"You don't get to grovel and expect that I will forgive you every time. That is not how the real world works. I am mad at you, Jonathan. I needed your help today, and despite your previous promises, you didn't come. You didn't even have a good reason. I really thought I would rank higher then some casual sex," Damian hissed, eyes narrowed.

Jon dropped his gaze to his feet.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Thank you."

Damian opened the door, stepping partially out of it.

"Make sure you drink plenty of water," he grumbled. "And take a shower before your brother gets home."

"Damian-"

The door snapped shut in his face. Jon felt something in him crack, staring at the closed door. He remembered to lock it before stumbling back to the sofa, sitting down and starting to moodily shove oreos into his mouth, feeling sorry for himself. After an hour or so of dealing with his munchies (and drinking a glass or two of water), he made his way upstairs, taking a shower and shoving his weed smelling clothes deep into his laundry basket. He collapsed in bed, nightmares surprisingly staying away, but instead he got very strange confusing dreams involving Damian.

The next morning, all he would remember of his dreams was a particularly erotic moment that included Damian's mouth on parts of his body that a normal person wouldn't dream about. He went about his normal morning activities, eating breakfast, cleaning up, washing laundry to get rid of any evidence of his previous evenings activities. Assuming Damian didn't rat him out to Conner, he'd get off scotch free.

Surprisingly, he wouldn't put it past Damian. 

He had a fairly good memory of last night's activities, from going over to his friends, the great sex, and the fight with Damian after. The only problem was everything was twinged with guilt, covered with a bit of a fog. He was mad at himself, more then anything. And he was mad at himself for being mad at himself. Other then getting stoned when no one was around to defend Metropolis, he had done nothing wrong. Marijuana had been made legal several years ago, and it wasn't like Damian had any right to make him feel guilty for having sex. It was his body, right? 

He didn't have any ties. And he didn't owe Damian anything.

Except he did.

But that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to have sex.

So why did he feel like he did something wrong when he thought about last night. Why did the memory of the face Damian has given him, the one between surprise and indifference, why did it cut so deep.

At about ten am, he pulled out his phone and stared at Damian's contact. He listened to the messages he had been left. Just two, the third call wasn't accompanied by a message. Both messages were short and to the point, mentioning something about an issue in Gotham and asking Jon to call him back, which he clearly hadn't. He went back to staring at the contact. The picture was a shitty photo Jon had gotten one day when they were together, Damian literally had a whip cream mustache. It was funny, and one of the only photos Jon had of Damian, so it became his contact photo.

Jon stared at it for much longer then he cared to admit. Finally he hit the call button, praying that Damian didn't answer. He didn't want to talk to Damian, he just wanted to leave a message. Why, or what about, he didn't know. If there was a God out there then she must've decided to favor Jon today.

"Hello, you have reached the voicemail of Damian Wayne. I am likely in a meeting at the moment, so leave me a message and I will attempt to recontact you at a later time."

Jon rolled his eyes, cold and formal. Just like he expected of Damian.

"Hi, Damian. It's Jon. Um . . . I guess I just wanted to call and apologize for . . . Well everything, last night. You are right. I broke a promise that I made specifically to you. You needed me and I wasn't there, and trust me I know how shitty that feels. And I wasn't there because I made a choice to go get high and . . . You were right, you are more important then casual sex and I'm just a big idiot, but I bet you already knew that." Jon stopped to laugh for a moment. "I'm rambling now. Anyway. I remember what you said about not getting to grovel and get forgiveness every time. And I understand and totally deserve it."

Jon sighed, glancing around his empty house, letting silence hang on the call for a minute.

"Damian, I don't wanna lose you again. I feel like I finally got my friend back and I would literally rather lose a limb then lose you again. So just . . . Call me back, or stop by or something. I don't know. Hell, send me a text, even an email. Whatever. You don't have to forgive me, just don't . . . Please don't disappear on me again. . . Okay, bye."

Jon ended the call, setting his phone down. He left it on the kitchen counter, going upstairs and getting changed into his uniform. He'd do some patrolling and be back in time to make supper for Conner, assuming the man would be back for supper.

He probably should've taken his phone with, but he was so used to leaving it at home that he didn't even think about it. He did however, take his comms with, leaving it in his pocket, knowing he would hear it beep. In six hours, Jon stopped two accidents, saved an out of control Subway, helped a little girl get her cat out of a tree, and broke up a street fight. He also had a lovely chat with an old lady who spent way too much of the conversation reminiscing about his dad, but she did end it with telling Jon that the town was noticing him changing. And that she was proud of him. He felt honored.

When he got home, he changed and had begun cooking before he even looked at his phone. He had a voicemail from Damian, and a text from Conner two hours ago that he was on the way home. Jon procrastinated for a minute, stirring his browning hamburger before listening to the voicemail.

"Hello, Jon. I guess I missed you . . . Though I figured I would as I just saw a Twitter post about you saving a runaway subway. Look. I am mad at you, yes. But I'm not going to disappear on you. I made a promise too. I may not be great with relationships and friends and all that, but . . . Yeah I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to forgive you yet. Bluntly I'm petty and you're going to have to work for my forgiveness. I know your brother is going to be coming back tonight, but if you wish. . . You could come patrol with me? Like how we used to do?" Damian paused for a moment, and Jon could hear other voices over the call. "Just let me know in advance if you are coming. Goodbye."

Jom sighed as the call ended. He started grabbing spices out of the cabinet and dumped them into the meat, making taco meat. He cooked in a bit of a blur, doing everything to make the food properly, setting everything on low and covering it to keep the food hot. He walked to the kitchen table and started sorting through mail half-heartedly, mostly thinking about Damian's offer. It would be nice to see him and actually be sober.

He was just making up his mind to eat and then fly to Gotham when the back door opened and then swung shut.

"Jon, I'm home!"

"In here!"

Jon looked up to see Conner, or rather Superman, dressed in a similar bodysuit to his, except with a black jacket, walk in. Instantly Jon felt a sense of dread wash over him. Did Conner know? It wasn't that he was worried about Conner finding out he had been smoking weed, the man was already well aware of that. It was more that he was worried Conner would be mad about him doing it while he was home alone, that he'd be mad for the same reasons Damian was.

"Did you make tacos?"

"Yeah."

"You are, truly, a god along men."

Conner pulled off his jacket, yawning and tossing it on the back of one of the dining room chairs.

"So kiddo, what's got you looking so glum."

Jon took a breath, he could tell a half-truth. Maybe get away with that?

"Damian's mad at me."

"What a surprise."

"Shut up." Jon flipped Kon off. The man chuckled and sat down across his brother.

"So, what about?"

"I . . . Went over to a friend's for a bit last night, and apparently he needed me for something and I didn't answer. And so now he's mad at me for not being there and breaking my promise."

"Wow, that sounds familiar," Kon grunted, picking up a letter and looking at it.

Jon shot him a glare. "We've moved past that, Kon."

Conner hummed. "Are you sure he's not mad because you were also smoking weed while at your friends house having sex?"

Jon felt his eyes widen, jaw dropping as he stared at Conner, how the hell?!

"Please kid, I'm not stupid. I checked in on you last night, overheard part of the argument."

Jon was going pale, he could tell.

"And yeah, I'm disappointed, but you're a big kid, and nothing happened so it's fine. I'm not . . . I'm not your parent, I'm your brother and brothers let their little siblings do shit like this. Besides we both know that I know this isn't your first time doing this. Hell, I'm not even mad you were over at his house just to smoke and have sex." Conner set down his letter to look up. "Just next time, don't do it while I'm gone, okay?"

"Yes, Conner . . . And I'm sorry."

"Damn that Wayne kid is ruining you. I thought we agreed not to apologize for shit we aren't actually sorry for?"

"I am sorry. It was stupid and I shouldn't have done it."

Conner stared at Jon like he had grown an extra head.

"Well. . . Huh. . . I forgive you kiddo."

"Thanks, Kon. Now can we eat? I gotta go to Gotham and earn Damian's forgiveness."

"Sure."

Jon jumped up, getting the rest of the taco supplies, he threw a glance back into the dining room and saw Conner still sitting there, staring at Jon's empty seat.

"Kon."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah."

Conner stood and walked in, but he still had that thoughtful look, even minutes later when they had sat down to eat.

"How was your night?"

"Oh, it was great. Cassie and Bart were ecstatic to see me and hear that we're trying to Fixer Upper ourselves."

" . . . Was Tim there?"

Conner visibly winced. Jon knew how dicey the relationship between Conner and his ex had been recently. He just waited, wondering if Conner would answer truthfully.

"No, he was in Gotham. . . Bart said that he told them that something came up. Probably the same thing Damian wanted you for."

"That sucks."

"Yeah."

They returned to eating in silence. . . Until.

"Jon, is Damian straight?"

Jon nearly spit out his taco, eyes snapping up to his brother.

"What the hell?!"

"Cause if not, he's pretty hot."

"Kon!"

"I'm just saying! Don't you think he seemed a little jealous!?"

"Fuck, how much of that conversation did you listen in on?!"

"Admittedly, most of it. You were pretty pathetic, bro."

"God!"

Jon ran a hand through his hair. But damn, now that Conner had pointed it out, that look Damian had given after Jon had spewed out the truth could be interrupted as jealousy. He went silent, considering this statement. And his dream. Oh god that was bad. No. It's fine. He's fine. They're just friends, and Jon just had that dream because he was high. It's.  _ Fine. _

He hurried through supper and then quickly cleaned up after, rushing upstairs to get changed, doing his normal pause as he was suddenly given the choice between uniforms. Recently, at the suggestion of Bruce, Jon and Conner had reintroduced the colors of the Kryptonian House of El. The dark blue and the darker red, they had crafted new uniforms for themselves with stronger materials Bruce had supplied. Jon's was more of a reference to their Fathers. A solid blue bodysuit with the S shield in red and yellow and then the dark red cape. His boots were red this time and he had added in red half gloves that went partially up his forearms. Conner's was a black, blue, and red body suit with his normal black jacket. Both had utility esc belts that were gray and black, as the need for pockets in uniforms was tremendous.

Jon always had this moment of hesitation when he got changed, if he put on the blue, he'd be willingly shouldering the responsibility of honoring the House of El. But if he put on the white, he had a little more freedom, a little more leniency on himself for any slip ups. But he almost always chose the blue. He quickly changed, attached his cape, grabbed the comms off his dresser and sent Damian a text before jogging downstairs.

"Kon, I'm off!" Jon exclaimed, walking around until he found his brother in the office.

"Okay, Jon."

Conner glanced up from the paper he was scanning over, smiling. Jon walked over and hugged him quickly before turning and walking out, flying before he even got off the porch. He was about 40 minutes out from Gotham when his comms started beeping. He raised an eyebrow but reached up and tapped it, allowing the caller to reach him.

"Meet me in the Narrows," Damian's voice came over the ear piece.

"Where exactly in the Narrows?"

"I'll be with Hood so I doubt it will be hard to find me."

Jon felt both his eyebrows go up.

"Alright . . . I'm forty-five minutes out from the narrows."

"Great."

The line went silent, and Jon was left with a boring flight all alone. Flying was great, but he'd been doing it since he was 9, so it wasn't that exciting anymore. Soon he reached the smog that was Gotham, and only a few minutes later reached the Narrows. He let his range of hearing expand until he started hearing yelling and fighting, followed shortly by gunfire. He headed towards it, and sure enough, found Red Hood and Robin in the middle of a street fight.

"Hey, guys!" He called, grabbing a man right as he lunged at Robin with a knife. "Need some help?"

He whipped his arm back, chucking the poor thug backwards into the wall. Red Hood nailed a man in the nose and then looked up.

"We got it handled," he growled.

Jon just rolled his eyes, darting forwards and body slamming a thug who had been about to shoot Red Hood. Not that the vigilante wouldn't be able to take it, but he didn't need more injuries. Jon snapped the thugs gun in half and then pushed him back into a wall, following up with a knock-out punch. He turned to find Robin held in a headlock, he just stepped forwards, grabbing the thug off Robin, quickly seperating them and smashing the guy's head into the wall. Not hard enough to kill him, but enough to give a concussion. He turned to Robin.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." Robin coughed, reaching up to rub his throat.

"So what's all this about?" Jon asked, glancing over as Hood knocked the last thug.

"Triad." Was Damian's short and simple explanation.

"Oh fun. So you want my help-"

"No."

Jon looked over at Hood, who was holstering a gun. Just then a grapple line was heard and then a man dressed in red leather, with a green hat covering his red hair, and a bow dropped into the alley. Jon stepped back, instinctively reaching an arm back in front of Robin, who smacked him.

"Hey, baby, sorry, got a little caught up."

The archer walked over to Red Hood, smacked his ass and then started walking towards Robin and Superboy 

"Damnit, Arsenal, how many times have we talked about this."

"Not enough, can't kiss you with that tin bucket of yours so I'll improvise," the archer, Arsenal, called over his shoulder.

Jon actually had no idea who Arsenal really was. He had heard about him, Hood had mentioned him a few times and he had seen a few things in the news about the man, but he hadn't met him and had no idea who he was under the red mask pressed around his eyes.

"Hey, I'm Arsenal, used to be Speedy."

Oh. Roy Harper.

"Hey, I'm Superboy."

Jon shook Arsenal's extended hand, noting the strength in his grip. He also definitely noticed the man's muscular body, and a fairly attractive face. Arsenal grinned at him, and reached over, ruffling Damian's hair. He immediately received a punch to the shoulder.

"Hood, now that your fiance has arrived, I will be taking my leave," Robin growled, watching Arsenal walk back over and sling an arm around Hood's shoulder.

"Great. Get out of here, brat."

Robin literally flipped off Red Hood and then turned, producing his grapple gun and firing it. He immediately caught something and was yanked away.

"Damn, and he says I have anger issues," Jon said to the two vigilantes, already floating.

"Kiddo, everyone in this business does," Arsenal said with a laugh.

Jon waved and then shot up, following Robin across Gotham. It wasn't hard to find and catch up to the green and gold hero, swinging and flipping across the city. Jon snagged his hand as he was mid-air, swinging him up. Robin threw his body out, tucking into a flip and then flatting out, pulling his arms and letting himself free fall. Jon grinned and followed his example, no longer resisting gravity. They fell quickly, Jon catching up until they were falling side by side. He could feel the wind rushing past him, tugging on his hair and clothes, gravity pulling on his body. 

Robin suddenly stuck his hands out towards Jon, and he took the hint, reaching out and grabbing Robin by the arms. The street was getting dangerously close and without Jon's powers they would hit terminal velocity in seconds and would be unable to stop before they became splats on the sidewalk. Jon tugged Robin into him and started slowing their descent. Once they had slowed considerably, he flipped them right side up, adjusting course to land on top of a nearby building. Once they both had their feet planted safely on the gravel roof, Jon loosened his grip, keeping his hands on Robin's arms. Robin was breathing hard, and Jon could hear his heart beating away quickly.

"Nothing like a good adrenaline rush, huh?" Jon said, laughing slightly, sucking in huge gasps of air.

"Agreed." Robin was also laughing now, the giggle of someone who just challenged death and barely won.

They smiled slightly at each other. Once he was sure Robin was okay, Jon let go, stepping back.

"How are you feeling?" Robin asked, turning and walking to the edge of the building. 

"Normal. I don't get after effects." 

Jon followed, watching Robin hop up to sit on the roof wall, letting his feet hang out over the edge.

"Mmm, must be nice."

Jon raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the wall, far enough he could look up at Robin.

"Sounds like maybe someone has experience."

"In my line of work, don't you think drugs of various kinds are regularly injected into me? I've had unpleasant experiences that could've been avoided by your immune system."

"Sorry, I'd share if I could.*

Robin must've rolled his eyes because otherwise he gave no reaction. Jon hopped up to be sitting on the wall, still facing the opposite direction.

"To be clear, I'm not trying to justify what I did when I ask this. But come on, D, you can't tell me you haven't gone partying and gotten drunk or high or something."

Robin didn't respond for a moment.

"There have been a few occasions . . . One of which occured the same night as a rather bad Joker attack, and I was too inebriated to help."

Oh.

"Oh."

"Yes, that was why I was so harsh on you."

Jon nodded, he suddenly frowned, picking up the sound of sirens, he stood, tilting his head slightly as he listened.

"Fire. Two- no three Fire trucks, several EMT's. Police are on their way now.

"Where?"

Robin stood up, grabbing his grapple.

"I don't . . . Don't know, hop on and we'll find out."

Jon crouched slightly. There was a solid thirty seconds of hesitation before Robin hopped up on his back. Jon started flying towards the sirens, Robin reporting it in as soon as he saw the smoke billowing from an apartment building. They landed outside near where the firemen were prepping to go inside.

"How many are trapped inside?" Robin asked the fire chief, digging in his utility belt for something.

"We don't know, just got here-"

Jon tuned them out, focusing on the building, scanning it, listening for screams. The fire was coming out of windows in some places.

"Ten, fifteen maximum."

He was already levitating, turning back to Robin.

"What are you doing, feet on the ground," Robin ordered, quickly ignoring the fire chief.

"I can't take heat or smoke damage, Rob, you guys can."

"You can't clear the whole building by yourself."

Jon raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

"Fine. Firemen can take the bottom two, I'll take the rest."

"That still leaves you with five floors, four apartments on each floor- Superboy!"

"Stay out of the building, Robin!" Jon yelled and shot away.

He flew up to the third floor, smashing the nearest window with his elbow and then crawling through. He let his body go on autopilot, tracking down civilians, grabbing them and taking them to the fire escape. He went apartment by apartment, breaking down doors and windows to get in. The smoke was thick, and despite the fact that he wouldn't any permanent damage from it, he was still coughing, eyes watering and throat burning. On the sixth floor, he encountered a problem while helping a young woman out onto the fire escape. She had just started climbing down the steps when the whole thing creaked and started shifting. Superboy jumped out, grabbing the girl just as the fire escape started falling, he grunted as it bounced off of him, holding the woman close to protect her from the falling metal. Her screams piercing his ears as she gripped onto his clothes.

"Well shit."

He watched the metal fire escape bend in half, falling quickly. The firemen were yelling, and he could hear Robin in the middle of all it. Superboy sighed and dropped like a rock, landing gently. He set the girl down just as Robin ran over.

"Let me help!" He yelled, actually looking concerned as he helped support the woman.

"No, I've-" Superboy started coughing. "Two more. I'll be fine."

"Superboy."

Robin reached out, grabbing onto Jon's arm to stop him, pulling him back to face him.

"Don't do anything stupid."

Jon gave him a toothy grin and shot away, quickly flying up to the penthouse. He broke through the large balcony door, finding a man and woman trying to get a dog out from under the sofa.

"Hey! We gotta go!" Jon yelled, running over.

He just picked the sofa up, tossing it away. The man darted forwards and grabbed this tiny wiener dog. Jon almost started at them in shock. They risked their lives for a fucking wiener dog? He just shook his head and grabbed both, darting out to the balcony, and jumping off, just as he heard the floor collapse behind them. He floated back down, giving the two coughing people to the EMT's before sitting down on the curb across from the building. He heard Robin walking over, but didn't look up, busy coughing into his elbow.

"You idiot," Robin grumbled and sat down beside him.

He held out an already opened water bottle and Jon took it, chugging half of it before returning to hacking his lungs out.

"Hey, I got everyone, didn't I?" Superboy asked with a toothy grin.

He felt so tired. He needed sun. Curse Gotham.

"Yeah, from what I can tell you did. Good job, bud."

Jon let his eyes close, coughing lightly again. He felt himself leaning over until Robin was supporting him. Robin didn't shove him off, so he took that as a good sign. They sat there for a minute, Jon just breathing in semi-clean air.

"We have a sunbed back at the cave."

"What. Why?"

Jon opened his eyes, turning to look up at Robin.

"We . . . Never got rid of it."

Robin wasn't looking down at him, he was watching the firemen try to keep the flames from taking over the other buildings.

"If you want we can go there for a bit?"

"That honestly sounds amazing, Rob."

Robin nodded and hit a few buttons on his glove, and then returned to sitting there in silence. A few minutes later the batmobile appeared, zipping up in front of them. Robin stood up, hit another button in his glove and then jumped in, turning and looking at Jon.

"Come on."

Jon stood and walked around, getting in the passenger side. As soon as he was properly seated, Robin shut the hatch and took off back towards the Batcave, flying through traffic like it wasn't even there. 

"Jesus do any of you bats know how to drive normally?"

"No."

When they reached the batcave, Robin helped the still coughing Jon down a corridor to where a sun bed was sat. He plugged it in and then pulled it open.

"Um . . . I have an odd request?" Jon said, leaning against the wall.

"Yes?"

"Can I have a pair of sweatpants? This thing will work better the more skin I have exposed."

"Oh, yeah, one minute."

Robin disappeared. Jon just leaned his head back against the wall, coughing slightly. Damian returned a few minutes later, a pair of black sweats draped over his arm, his mask gone, and another water bottle in his free hand.

"These are Father's, I figured they would be the most likely to fit."

Damian passed them over, he turned the sunning bed on, a soft glow coming from the machine.

"Just close the lid and you're good to go. . . I probably won't be here when you finish, I'll either be out on the streets or in bed, so I'd suggest going home. I'll contact your brother and let him know why you're staying so late."

Jon nodded, reaching back to undo the cape as he waited for Damian to leave.

"Good job, Jon. Even if you were a bit stupid in what you did." 

Damian held a hand out to Jon, who smiled, stepping forwards, clasping Damian by the forearm. Damian actually smiled back.

"See you around."

"Yes."

Damian retreated from the room, and Jon carefully pulled off his uniform and then the sweatpants, he made his way over to the bed, taking a sip of the water before crawling in and shutting the lid. He fell asleep almost instantly. Sunbathing, even artificial, was always so relaxing for Jon, it could put him to sleep within in minutes, and it was always the best sleep, the type that left you feeling rested and ready for the day, the type that was dreamless.

He woke up an hour and a half later, feeling like he could take on Darksied himself. He changed back and began wandering around the batcave, trying to figure two things out. 1) if anyone was around. 2) what time it was exactly. He discovered pretty quickly that no one was in the cave. And the huge clock by the batcomputer told him it was 1:32am. He shrugged and followed Damian's advice, taking off towards home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun reminder that you don't have to forgive someone just because they apologized!!!!
> 
> Also don't abuse substances, and have safe sex, kids. Jon is obviously gonna be fine, but that's not an excuse for you guys :)
> 
> In other news, Jon's still a teen and he's still 50% human, so he still makes mistakes!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Comments and Kudos always appreciated!


	8. Right Place at the Right Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're at 1k hits!!! Ah!!! Thank you <3 as my sibling says, I'm soft for you guys <3
> 
> Content Warning - Attempted Suicide, mentioned transphobia
> 
> Hello children(I'm Bruce Wayning you all), here is your scheduled Thursday post. This chapter was kinda a filler thing, but I think it ended up coming out well. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Edit: Im preempting this bc I've already gotten some shit over it. If you don't accept transgenders or are going to talk shit for me writing a chapter with a transgender character, please leave. I do not want you in my comments or even reading my story if that is the type of person you are. I truly hope this is unnecessary, but I'm making it blatantly clear, hate/hurtful comments with be deleted and entirely ignored

Jon had never slammed on the brakes so hard before in his life.

He had been driving home from work, having just gone underneath a train overpass when he saw a person standing on the edge of it in his rearview mirror. He had immediately slammed on the brakes and pulled his truck into one of those lanes between fields, jumping out and sprinting back down the road. He jumped the fence keeping people away from the hill up to the tracks and scrambled up it, the loose gravel spilling and causing him to slip.

The person Jon had spotted was standing on the edge of the tracks, staring down at the road below. It was probably barely a two story drop, but enough to kill if you landed right. The person was small, and at first glance, Jon would guess they were less then 16. They were wearing a huge oversized green hoodie and black jeans, the hood pulled up, hiding their head and face.

"Wait!" Jon yelled, finally pulling himself up onto the tracks, reaching a hand out to the form.

They whipped around to face him, eyes wide, cheeks wet with tears Jon could just barely see in the moonlight.

"Stay! Stay back!" The person sobbed out, the voice young and pitchy.

"Don't do this!"

Jon's foot slipped off the edge of the track and gravel fell down onto the road below.

"Careful! You'll fall!" The person squeaked, reaching their hand out to Jon and at the same time taking a step back, away from the edge.

"I won't. I won't fall, I promise."

Jon held his hands up, taking another step closer, walking on the edges of the wood. The person, who Jon was thinking was a teenage girl, watched him warily, eyes still wide.

"What's the matter?" Jon asked, a few feet away now, close enough he could catch the girl if she jumped anyway.

"I don't wanna live anymore!"

"Why? What happened?"

She looked at him warily, suspicious of who he was.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, my name is Jon Kent, what's yours?"

"Elaina," the girl hiccuped out.

"Okay, Elaina. Why don't you step back, towards me, and let's talk?"

Elaina hesitated, and there was this moment where she teetered towards the edge and Jon prepared to jump forwards, he may not be Superboy at the moment, but he could still save this girls life. Finally, after a tense moment, she stepped back, over the metal rail and away from the edge. Jon held his hand out, and she grabbed it, allowing herself to be tugged closer. Jon pulled her to him, hugging the now sobbing teen.

Slowly Jon managed to convince her to come back down the hill with him, and they walked together to his truck, he dropped the tailgate of the old rust bucket, and they sat next to each other on it, staring out into the darkness, Elaina had her hood pulled up, her hands retracted back into her sleeves, huddled in on herself like she was cold, despite the September air barely giving a chill. Jon waited until she had stopped crying and hiccuping before talking.

"So, can I ask why you were up on that bridge?"

"Because . . . Because I don't have any purpose to be alive."

"Thats not true, Elaina, everyone does. Maybe you just haven't found yours yet."

"Yes it is, my parents hate me, so does my boyfriend."

"Why do you think your parents hate you?" Jon questioned, looking over at her.

"Because they kicked me out," Elaina said with a sniff, wiping her nose.

Jon didn't ask, but she knew his question, reaching up to push her hood down, revealing choppily cut short brown hair.

"I came out as trans and they kicked me out."

Jon felt shock run through his body, staring at the young teen sat beside him. It took a moment for him to process normally, and when he did, he immediately pulled Elaina to him in a big hug.

"Oh, kiddo, I'm so sorry."

She sniffed, gently putting her arms around his mid-section and hugging him back.

"Do you have another name you'd like to be called then?" Jon asked once she pulled away.

"Eli," came the quiet response.

"Okay, Eli it is."

Eli smiled slightly at Jon, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. Jon chewed on his lip, looking back out into the distance as he contemplated something.

"Eli, do you have a friends house, or relative you can stay with?"

Eli was silent for a minute, then nodded.

"Yeah, I have an Aunt in New York who knows and has told me I can come stay with her. . ."

"Okay. Do you wanna come stay with me and my brother for the night and we can give her a call in the morning?"

Eli nodded, and Jon offered him a smile, hopping off the tailgate. When Eli slid off, he closed it and then walked around, getting in the truck and starting it. After a moment, Eli got in the passenger side, looking around it. Jon just backed onto the road and continued towards his house, pulling out his phone and calling Conner.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. We're gonna have a guest."

Jon glanced at Eli, who was curled up against the door, watching the road.

"What did you do," Conner asked, sounding tense.

"Look, I'll explain when I get there. Just make sure the guest room is ready, and put on a friendly face."

"Okay, be careful, Jon."

"I will, Kon."

Jon hung up and put both hands on the wheel, staring out the windshield.

"Can I ask some questions?" Eli asked softly.

"Sure!" Jon responded, trying to sound chipper.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Because I didn't want you to jump."

"How did you know you could save me?"

" . . . Because I've done it before. Most times people just need to know they're not alone."

Eli stared at him, Jon tried not to let it bother him, focusing on driving, they were only a few miles away from the house.

"Well . . . Thanks, I guess. I don't really know what I was thinking."

"It's okay. I've been there before. I'm just glad I came by when I did."

Eli went silent, looking down at his hands. Jon pulled into the driveway of the farmhouse, parking next to Conner's significantly nicer car. He got out, grabbing his waterbottle and apron and started walking around to the back, hearing Eli slam the door and go running after him. Jon pushed open the doors, kicking his shoes off in the mudroom.

"Kon!"

"Yo!"

Jon tossed his apron down on the counter, flicking on the kitchen light, and motioning for a very timid Eli to follow him. Conner appeared in the doorway from the office, instantly raising an eyebrow at Jon when he saw Eli.

"Hey, kid."

"Hey."

Jon walked over, hugging his brother, leaning into him and relaxing in the safety of his brothers arms. Conner reached up to ruffle Jon's hair lightly. Finally they pulled away, and Jon turned, motioning to Eli.

"Kon, this is Eli. . . Eli this is my brother, Conner Kent."

"Hi." Eli waved slightly.

Conner smiled and waved back. "Hey. Jon said you'd be spending the night."

"If that's okay . . ."

"It's perfectly fine. Feel free to make yourself at home, you wanna see around the place?"

Eli nodded, and Conner motioned for him to follow before turning and walking away. Jon watched Eli disappear after Conner and he turned, grabbing some leftover chicken fingers and starting to heat them up, checking his phone for messages he may have missed.

_ Damian: Did you manage to get off tomorrow?_

_ Yeah, but something else came up. When do you think you'll get here? _

_ It depends when you would like me to. What happened? Is everything okay?_

_ Yeah, I'll explain tomorrow. Be safe tonight._

_ You too._

"And we're back at the kitchen!"

Jon looked up as Conner and Eli walked back in. Eli had finally tugged down his hood again, and now that they were inside, Jon could see dark brown hair with blonde roots sticking out. He had bright green eyes that were still flicking around warily, landing on Jon, who was stood in the middle of the kitchen eating a ranch doused chicken strip.

"I got some work to catch up on, but like I said earlier, make yourself at home. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you," Eli said softly, and Conner disappeared again.

Jon shoved the rest of his chicken in his mouth, washing his hands quickly.

"Do you want anything to eat?"

"Yes please. . ."

"Alrighty. Any food allergies?"

Jon glanced over his shoulder to see Eli shaking his head.

"And any preferences?"

"No . . . Well, I am vegan."

"Okey dokey. One vegan friendly snack coming up."

Jon set to work, cooking a quick vegan friendly meal for Eli, after a few minutes, Eli sat at the island, producing a phone and texting on it for a minute.

"Jon?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yep?"

"Do you . . . Is it just you and your brother?"

"Yeah. My parents died a few years ago."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks. But its okay. I'm okay now."

Eli was hesitating in what he was about to ask next, looking down at his phone on the counter. Jon just waited, finishing the food and putting it on a plate, he grabbed a fork and set the plate in front of Eli.

"Do you want some water?"

"Please, and thank you," Eli said softly, reaching up to feel his short hair before beginning to eat.

Jon got him a cup of water, and then went to the pantry, grabbing out a bag of chips and beginning to munch on them as he leaned back against the countertop, focusing on finding Robin all the way in Gotham. Eli was staring at him, but that was fair considering Jon was spaced out like a total idiot. 

"Jon."

Jon nearly jumped out of his skin, eyes snapping to Conner, who was leaning into the kitchen, now chuckling.

"Uh yeah?"

"I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow night?"

"Yeah. Night, Kon."

Jon walked over and accepted a kiss on the forehead from Kon, and with that, the man turned and left. Eli looked rather amused about what had just happened. Jon just shook his head slightly and sat next to the teen.

"So how old are you, Eli?"

"Sixteen."

Jon frowned slightly, but nodded, digging a handful of chips out.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"What highschool do you go to? I've never seen you around before . . ."

"I graduated pretty early."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Eli shoved the last bite of food in his mouth, tapping his fork on the counter lightly.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed . . ."

"Alright."

He stood and put his plate in the sink, pausing and turning back to Jon.

"What's your wifi password?"

Jon laughed and held out his hand, taking Eli's phone and putting in the password.

"It's uh, not great, Kon and I aren't really here much so don't be surprised if it's slow about loading things."

"Okay, thanks . . . For everything."

"You're welcome, Eli. Go get some rest."

Eli nodded and walked away, Jon could hear him climbing the stairs. He sighed lightly to himself and started cleaning up, starting the dishwasher and then walking upstairs to take a long hot shower before crashing in bed.

Jon was awake before Eli the next morning, but Conner was gone long before either was awake. Jon woke up and made himself breakfast before starting laundry, not really having anything to do until Eli woke up.

_ Damian: I will be there around noon._

_ Okay, see you then._

_ Don't be in uniform. _

Eli woke up around 10:30, shuffling down, hood flipped up, he curled up in the armchair, staring at the tv which was playing a Star Wars movie. Jon looked at the teen for a moment before looking back at the tv, deciding this was going to be an interesting day. They watched the movie for a while before Eli spoke.

"Is that you?"

Jon frowned, following his gaze over to a picture on the wall, and immediately felt a jolt of sadness. Eli was looking at an old picture of Jon and his parents. 

"Yeah. And my mom, Lois, and my dad, Clark."

"Conner looks a lot like your dad."

"I know."

"You looked a lot happier back then."

"A lot of bad stuff has happened to me."

Eli looked back at Jon, frowning slightly.

"How'd they die?"

Jon forced himself to answer, not to pull away and become cold like he used to.

"My dad was murdered, and mom died in a car crash a few years later."

"I'm sorry."

Jon shrugged, looking down at his phone.

"Yesterday, you said . . . You said you'd saved people before, people who . . . "

"Yeah, a few. I'm just always in the right place at the right time."

"And you said you'd been there . . . Have you ever?"

"Tried it? No . . . I'm not-"

_ I can't die like that._

"-No. But I've been in a bad enough place that I considered it."

Eli nodded, Jon stood, glancing at the clock. Damian would be here soon.

"We should call that Aunt of yours."

"Oh, yeah."

Eli produced his phone and started looking at it. Jon made his way to the kitchen, stomach grumbling in complaint. He'd have to make something vegan for both Eli and Damian. He shoved another one of those chicken fingers in his mouth and then began cooking one of the few vegan meals he knew how to make. Ten minutes into his cooking, Eli walked in, looking like he had been crying.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah . . . My Aunt said she was leaving to come get me now and she'd call for the address when she got close."

"That's great!" Jon said with a grin.

Eli smiled slightly, wiping his face with his sleeve. They both looked up when there was the sound of a car door shutting. Jon smiled lightly, while Eli looked ready to panic.

"Is . . . Is that Conner?" He asked, edging towards the doorway.

"No, its my friend Damian, he's a good guy, and has helped me through a lot. He's okay, I promise."

Just then the back door pushed open, and in walked Damian Wayne, wearing black slacks and a white button up, a backpack slung over one shoulder. His hair was styled perfectly, and he even seemed to have makeup on. His eyes snapped immediately to Eli, eyebrow raising. Meanwhile Eli's mouth fell open.

"I-I. . . Wha?!"

Jon laughed, walking over to Damian, who finally pulled his gaze off the teen to look up at Jon.

"Kent."

"Hello to you too. Dames, this is Eli. Eli this is Damia-"

"Damian Wayne. I know. He's kinda famous, how did you befriend a famous model?!"

Jon raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

"I have connections."

He turned to Damian, pulling the man into a loose hug, which was really a mask to whisper to Damian.

"His parents kicked him out for being transgender, I saved him from suicide jumping last night, and he's staying until his aunt gets here to pick him up."

"Ah."

Damian, keeping the disguise, hugged Jon back before the teen stepped away, walking back to his food.

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Eli."

"You too!"

"Hey, Dames, check this for me," Jon said, pulling out a fork and getting a serving of the food, holding it out.

"How many times have I told you that you don't need to cook for me," Damian said with an eyeroll, walking over anyway.

"Well, with two vegans in the house, I figured it'd be a nice gesture."

Damian tasted the food and nodded in approval, looking back at Eli.

"You're vegan?"

"Yeah. . . A lot of animal products upset my stomach so I just made the switch."

"Aah."

Damian slid off his backpack, setting it against the wall and then sitting at the counter, pulling out his phone.

"So, what were you up to?" Jon asked, really curious why Damian seemed to have makeup on.

"Press meeting this morning," was Damian's simple response, focused on whatever email he was answering.

"Ooohh."

Damian chuckled, glancing up for a brief moment, and the two exchanged a small smile.

Jon plated lunch and the three ate together, sitting at the table. Jon doing his best not to sort the pile of envelopes. It was Friday, they always sorted on Friday, and he could see one that looked fairly important. But he focused on his plate. While he was washing dishes, Damian and Eli disappeared into the living room, leaving Jon alone. Until Damian reappeared in the kitchen.

"Kent, do you have a razor for trimming hair?"

"Yeah, Kon does somewhere, why?"

"I'm going to style Eli's hair better."

"Wow, you're a hair stylist now," Jon said, drying his hands and walking over to Damian, standing in front of him, hands on hips. "What can't you do?"

It was definitely a flirt. Damian definitely knew it was. But he just smiled lightly, shaking his head, as Jon flirting wasn't exactly a rare occurrence. It was more common for Superboy, cocky and self-assured, to let them slip, usually just little things like commenting on Robin's body, making suggestive jokes, that sort of thing. But Jon Kent, also cocky, was often prone to giving a flirtatious joke here and there. He was, admittedly, much worse with other people then he was with Damian, but that was just because he didn't get good reads on Damian when he did do it.

"I'll go find those for yah," Jon said and walked away.

It took him ten minutes, and snooping through both the upstairs, and downstairs bathrooms before he finally found his prize, as well as the bag of supplies Conner used to trim Jon's hair. He walked back out, holding them up.

"You can thank me later," Jon said with a cocky smirk, giving them over to his billionaire friend.

"Come, Eli."

Damian skillfully ignored Jon, leading Eli into the kitchen. Twenty minutes later, the teen emerged, with admittedly much better styled hair, now cut short and even.

"Hey! Look at that, maybe while he's at it, I should have him do mine!" Jon said, grinning at Eli.

"Not if you value that dumb haircut of yours!" Damian called back from the kitchen. "I would cut it all off."

"Alright, so Damian is never touching my hair."

That got a giggle from Eli, he covered his nose with his hoodie and looked at the floor as he laughed.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. They watched another movie, played some video games, Damian made supper, and when Conner got home, they ate. After supper Conner and Jon cleaned up together, leaving their two guests to sit in the living room. They put on a third movie for the day, which Conner and Jon did not watch, disappearing into the office to discuss the recent rise of crime in Metropolis. And also their bills.

"You're not fucking with me? You haven't moved them?"

"No, Kon. You know that every bill we get I either leave on the table for you, or I put right here in this box."

"Fuck." 

Jon sighed, watching his brother pace around the room. They had apparently not gotten bills for two months now, and Conner was freaking out.

"It'll be okay, I can call the company on Monday and explain the situation and see if they maybe got lost in the mail."

"No need."

Both men snapped their heads around to look at the figure in the doorway. Damian was leaning one shoulder against it, watching them.

"What are you talking about?" Conner questioned, crossing his arms.

"You are discussing missing bill payments, no?"

"Yeah . . . Wasn't aware you gained superhearing."

"I didn't. Was merely going to the bathroom and overheard," Damian explained. "I can explain your issue "

"Oh yeah?" Conner challenged, stepping forwards.

"Yes. You haven't received any bills because you haven't payed anything."

"I know, Wayne, thats the problem-"

Damian held up a hand, silencing Conner.

"Because Father has."

Both fell silent, staring at Damian. Jon's mouth actually fell open. 

"Wait. You're saying . . . Bruce is paying our bills? Electric, heat, everything?"

"Yes."

"Wh-why?! What? We don't need your help!"

"We know. That's why we didn't ask," Damian said, giving a half shrug.

"How did he even get access to that?" Jon asked, very confused.

"He's Bruce Wayne. He can get whatever he wants."

Damian turned and walked away. And the two brothers looked at each other, still in shock.

"Did you put him up to this?" Conner asked.

"No. I had no idea."

"What the hell."

" . . . Maybe we should just accept it? I mean, its not like it's gonna make a dent in his bank account, and I know for a fact that we're just barely scraping by."

"We don't need charity, Jon."

"Why not? I've learned that accepting help is okay, Kon. Besides. It's just the bills, it's not like Bruce is trying to become our Sugar Daddy."

"Please never say those words _ever_ again."

Jon chuckled, patting Conner's shoulder.

"Fine. But just the bills, nothing else. Not even your college tuition next year."

"Oh, yeah, that's definitely pushing into Sugar Daddy territory."

"Shut the fuck up, brat!"

Conner lunged to grab Jon, trying to pull him into a headlock. They both froze when they heard a car pulling into the driveway.

"I got front," Jon said, heading out the door.

"Back," Conner confirmed.

They both headed to the doors, Jon met eyes with Damian and gave a pointed look at Eli. The man nodded, standing.

"What's going on?" Eli asked, clearly confused.

Jon ignored him, walking to the front window and looking outside. Red Jeep hybrid. New York license plates. Middle aged business woman getting out.

"Eli, what's your aunt look like?"

"Uh, about my height, dark hair, curvy?"

Jon relaxed immediately. "Kon! All clear!"

He was opening the door before the woman even knocked.

"Hello, you must be Eli's aunt," He said with a smile.

"Yes. I'm Lydia."

The woman stepped inside, spotted Eli and rushed to hug him, asking if he was okay and kissing his forehead.

"Yes! Yes I'm fine!" Eli said, but hugged her back, looking ready to cry.

"Thank you two, so much, for everything you've done," Lydia said, turning to Jon and Damian, who had made his way over to stand beside Jon.

"Oh, I haven't done anything, it was all Jon here."

The woman had a confused look that faded into a smile as Conner walked in, glancing at the people.

"Well, you're here aren't you, so you must've done something," Lydia said to Damian, shifting her gaze to Jon. "Really, thank you."

"No need. I'm just glad I came along when I did." Jon smiled at her.

And suddenly he found himself in a hug.

"Well, we'll get out of your hair . . ."

"If you're ever in Metropolis and need anything, Eli has my number, feel free to give a call."

"Yes! Same for New York. Come on, Eli. We're going to break into Daniel's house and steal all your shit, and then we're gonna go home."

Eli giggled at his Aunt, who was walking back to the door.

"Thanks, Jon. I'll never forget this."

He stepped forwards and hugged Jon, who returned it lightly, smiling. Eli thanked both Conner and Damian before the aunt and nephew disappeared outside, Jon watched them get into their jeep and drive away.

"Well. . . You ready to patrol until we pass out?" Jon asked, turning to Damian.

"God, please."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eli is gonna be happy, I promise :)
> 
> So are the boys.
> 
> Soon.
> 
> Maybe ;)


	9. A Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha guess who decided to rewrite this whole ass chapter during finals week. 
> 
> I'm dying 
> 
> Also I have a cold so please digitally send me your cold medicine and relief and also cuddles so I don't keel over before I post 10&11.
> 
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ END NOTES  
they will contain very important information!!!!!
> 
> Anyway, I made you guys a promise, so now I will deliver ;)
> 
> Enjoy ;)

**November 4th**

Jon hated fighting with Damian. He had realized that after the first minor squabble they had after rekindling their friendship.

He remembered, back when they were little, Damian almost always won their arguments, he was too stubborn and arrogant to back down, while Jon recognized Damian was smarter and more skilled.

But now he was the stubborn, arrogant one, and he would argue that he was pretty smart. Sure he may not be as clever as the World's second greatest detective, but he was still smart, and was pretty good at thinking on his toes. So he was able to hold his own. For the most part, the arguments were short and snappy, leaving both parties frustrated and needing space. Jon had won several in the past six months, but it was nowhere near 50/50, as most their arguments were about Jon's reformation, and Damian was right and Jon had just not wanted to admit it.

But whatever had started their arguing today, Jon had no idea. A bump of the arms, a snappy response, and they were off, arguing about everything from the color of the carpet to Jon's moral compass. It was stupid and pointless, and Jon was incredibly glad they were in the middle of nowhere and Conner was out of town.

Damian had been spending the day with Jon, patroling Metropolis together and working on Jon's emotional state and public appearance. For the most part, things had done a complete 180 since when Damian first started helping him. He could actually talk about his parents without closing off and emotionally hiding away. He was doing much better about actually talking to people when he was upset, instead of shoving things into a box. And as Superboy, he had slowly started regaining the love of his town, and not just their fear. The Justice League didn't actually hate his guts, and had even asked for his help once or twice.

But man, sometimes Damian just did little things that got under his skin and set him off, like he had today. Damian was a saint compared to Jon. He did a fairly good job of not rubbing that in, of just being there to help. He tried not to critic or scold as much, only saying something if Jon was taking things too far. But sometimes, if he had a bad day, the man could be a little snappy and short, his arrogant posh attitude really shining through.

Today had been one of those days. And Jon had tried to get him to talk about it when he showed up, but Damian adamantly refused, which meant it was a family issue. There was no one who could get on Damian's nerves like his family. Not even Conner. So Jon had left it alone as asked, but a call from Bruce had just set Damian off, making him not only snappy and arrogant, but just plain grumpy and rude.

And Jon had finally gotten fed up and snapped at the first raised voice, yelling back at Damian.

So here they were, an hour into a stupid argument that had Jon's vision going red with rage. Damian, despite his raised voice, had this calm rage to him, not stumbling over his words or painful jabs, knowing all the right things to say to really twist his knife in. Jon lashed out like a cornered animal, pulling out all the stops and attacking Damian how he knew it would hurt most. Or how he expected it to.

"What the hell are you thinking?!"

"Oh I don't know, I was thinking maybe I could end this STUPID FUCKING ARGUMENT and go hit up one of my friends and see if he's available to fuck!"

Jon watched Damian physically recoil, his mouth snapping shut. So he had guessed right. Damian didn't speak for a moment, but Jon could still see rage written on him, the older man literally shaking with it.

"It'd be a better use of my time then standing here and letting you scream at me for ever miniscule mistake I've ever made! JESUS! Who shoved a stick up your ass?! Hell, while I'm over there, destroying his, maybe I'll snag some weed and bring it back so you can calm the fuck down!" Jon was still yelling, not noticing Damian's muscles tightening as he prepared to lash out physically.

He opened his mouth to spit out some harsh insult that would cut deep, but froze when Damian closed the few steps between them, his hand flying and backhanding Jon. His head snapped to the side and immediately rage burned white hot through him. How dare Damian-

"You are a fucking idiot," Damian hissed. "Fine. If your fuck buddy is really more important to you then I am then I'll just show myself out and let you go pleasure yourself on someone who would abandon you the second they found out the truth. How long do you think you can keep up your act, Kent? It won't last forever, and you'll find yourself empty and alone."

Damian wasn't yelling anymore and it was scarier then when he had been.

"Don't expect me to stick around if I am going to be treated as nothing more then a therapist and a convenient friend. You may be surprised to discover I require a little more then sexual favors to maintain a relationship."

"Says the man who spent the past hour yelling at me."

"You were doing plenty of yelling back, Kent."

"You started this!"

"You are acting like a child!"

Damian waved his hands as he spoke, and Jon, thinking he was going to get slapped again, grabbed his wrists, pushing him back until he was against a wall, hands pinned by his head.

"You are egotistical and bull-headed," he growled.

"And you are cocky and stubborn."

Damian was glaring at Jon, holding eye contact, but not trying to escape, letting the fight continue while pinned against the wall. Jon was glaring back, doing his best to keep his rage from finally snapping and making him do something he'd really regret.

"This is fucking stupid, I haven't done anything!"

Damian opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.

"You don't have a defense?! So you agree I've done nothing and you're just taking your anger out on me? . . . Son of a bitch! What the hell?!"

Damian suddenly pushed forwards, but instead of trying to escape Jon's grip, he leaned up, pressing his lips to Jon's.

Jon's brain stopped working, unable to process what just happened. Luckily, his body, still belonging to a horny, easily excited teen, went onto autopilot. He pushed back, instantly kissing Damian with the same fevor that he had been arguing with. Damian didn't resist, letting the kiss become filthy and passionate, biting each other's lips, mouths open as their tongues rubbed together, saliva mixing. Jon's senses were quickly being filled with everything Damian. His smell, his taste, his feel, his sounds. He felt his anger simmering as he suddenly had something much more important to deal with.

Damian was the first one to pull away, breaking the kiss and turning his head slightly so Jon couldn't restart it, which he did attempt to do. A defeated laugh came out of Damian.

"Damn it," he gasped out

Jon was breathless, his lungs burning as he hadn't gotten a proper breathe that whole time. He stared at Damian for a moment, wondering what the hell just happened.

"This was dumb. You were right. I'm being an asshole. My apologies."

"I. . . What the hell just happened."

" . . . Things got out of hand?" Damian tried. He wouldn't make eye contact.

Jon was being given two options. One, take the out and pretend that wildly passionate kiss hadn't happened. And two, press forwards and call Damian out.

"Like hell." Jon went for option two.

Damian sighed, closing his eyes.

"Fuck," he whispered, but Jon's sensetive ears picked it up.

"Damian."

Jon had a pretty good idea what was going on. He wasn't dumb. He knew why his jabs about the sex had effected Damian so much. He knew how every time Damian found out Jon had slept with someone he instantly got closed off and cold. Jealous, Conner had dared to call it. Jon was thinking he was right.

"I shouldn't have done that," Damian muttered, mostly to himself.

"I didn't mind."

Damian's eyes came open, and he frowned.

"You don't mind that I just randomly kissed you after an hour of screaming at each other."

"Well. Not the most romantic way to go about seducing someone . . ."

Damian sighed. Jon realized that he still had the man pinned against the wall, he let go, stepping back, giving Damian space.

It wasn't exactly like Damian had been flirting and dropping hints. Actually, he had done a very good job of hiding whatever the hell was going on. Jon truthfully would've never even suspected the man had any feelings towards him(or that he wasn't straight for that matter), had he not noticed the jealous reactions. But for the most part, he had been largely unaware of the apparent romantic, or lustful feelings. He was now very aware and wasn't going to let Damian get away with not discussing it.

He was a stubborn bitch after all.

"How bout I make some tea and we sit down?" Jon suggested gently, realizing his throat was raw from all the fighting.

Damian nodded and made his way over to the sofa, sitting down against an arm. Jon made his way into the kitchen, keeping a careful eye on the front door, not wanting Damian to bolt. It took him a few minutes to boil water and steep the tea, but he stayed away from Damian, giving them both time to calm down and sort out their thoughts. He, had there not been a bigger matter now at hand, would've been red with embarrassment that they had actually spent the past hour just screaming at each other, and as was he still felt rather guilty about it.

He made Damian's tea how he knew the older man would like it, and picked up the mugs, he could see steam curling out of the top, but he didn't even feel the sting of the heat from his knuckles against the side of the mug. He walked back into the living room, setting Damian's tea down on a coster on the coffee table in front of him and then sat down on the other side of the sofa, leaving plenty of space between them. He set his own mug down, leaving it to steam and cool off, and then turned to Damian, who had fixed his gaze on the tea. Jon could almost visibly see Damian building his walls, protecting himself from however this conversation was going to go.

"Sorry," Jon finally said, trying to pull Damian's attention, trying to start this probably painful conversation.

"What for?" Damian said with a scoff, slowly dragging his gaze from the tea up to Jon's face.

"I shouldn't have yelled back. I let my anger get the best of me and lashed out. I could tell you weren't having a good day when you got here but I still let the little unimportant things get under my skin.

"It's not your fault. You're right, I . . . Got into a rather intense argument with Father last night that just started my day with a foul mood. It is not your fault, and I should not have allowed my issues effect you, nor should I have gotten short with you for something my family has done."

Jon reached over, gently putting his hand on Damian's shoulder, smiling softly.

"It's okay, Dames."

Damian nodded, reaching out and picking up the tea, curling his hands around the warm cup. Jon remembered that he frequently cold and wondered if now was a time like that.

Neither spoke for a moment, and Damian didn't look back over, staring off at the floor on the other side of the coffee table. Jon was having this feeling he was gonna avoid the other topic if allowed to. He sighed lightly and scooted over a cushion so he was right next to Damian, who finally glanced over, eyebrow raising. Jon reached out, taking Damian's mug from him and setting it on the coffee table.

"Damian."

"Kent?"

Damian was now firmly looking anywhere but at Jon, whose arm was now on the back of the sofa. If there was one thing Jon could do, it was seducing people. With his free hand, he reached up, gently cupping Damian's cheek and turning his head to look at him. Damian's eyes flickered between Jon's eyes and his lips for a minute before he fixed them on something behind Jon's head. Jon smiled lightly, recognizing the avoidance. But Damian wasn't struggling to get out of Jon's light hold.

"You have two seconds to stop me if this isn't what you want," he said softly.

Damian's eyes snapped back over to Jon's face. He didn't pull away or even turn his head. Jon leaned in, gently pressing his lips to Damian's. Instantly Damian was kissing him back, pressing against Jon, a hand coming up to grab onto Jon's bicep as they kissed, not quite as passionate as before, but still enough to have Jon pulling away to breathe after a bit. He pulled just far enough away to be able to breathe and look at Damian, but not enough to make it seem like he was running away.

"Why didn't you say something?" He asked, opening his eyes to look at Damian.

"How exactly am I supposed to broach that conversation."

"Well it's not like I wasn't obvious about not being straight . . . "

Damian sighed lightly, closing his eyes for a second.

"And it's not like I'm, ya know, in a relationship. Hasn't really worked out in the past . . . I guess I just didn't realize that you weren't straight. . ."

Damian raised an eyebrow.

"Really? You clearly caught onto my jealousy . . . "

"Well, I knew you weren't happy about certain things, but I wasn't sure if it was jealous or you just having a stick up your ass."

Damian rolled his eyes.

"So . . ."

Jon let go of Damian and shifted away, relaxing back into the sofa, his arm still on the back behind Damian. The other sighed and shifted so he could still face Jon, looking down at his lap.

"What?" He asked, clasping his hands.

"I guess I just gotta ask a dumb question. Are you like . . . Bi, or gay, or?"

"I believe Kate called it Pansexual. I've never really cared about sexuality, or the gender of the person I was interested in."

"Oh, cool."

Damian nodded, finally looking back up.

"And uh, you're interested in me?"

Damian snorted. Very impolite of him.

"I assumed that was pretty obvious at this point."

"I . . . When?"

"Admittedly for a while. But you were not in a good place and I refused to let myself get my hopes up . . . I mean, after everything you had been through and the fact that I just reentered your life within the past year . . . I really didn't have the right to even think that you would have any romantic feelings towards me."

Jon stared at him in shock. Damian had a crush on him for a while now? That was news. He'd literally only just started picking up hints within the past month. Hell he'd just started realizing he might have a crush in the past two weeks! Damian looked up at Jon's face and sighed lightly, looking away again.

"This is stupid," he muttered under his breath, beginning to stand.

"Wait!" Jon grabbed Damian's hand and stopped him. "It's not stupid, sit down and let's talk about this, okay?"

Damian sighed and sat down again. Jon could visibly see how tense he was, ready to get up and bolt at the first sign that things were going bad. Jon allowed himself a minute to gather his thoughts.

"You're right . . . I have been in a bad place, and you know very well how much I'm trying to get out of it. How much progress I've made, and how much more I have to go. I'm still a mess up here-" Jon tapped his head. "-but I'm still gonna keep trying. And . . . If you don't mind waiting, one day I'd love to try this."

He reached out, gently caressing Damians cheek. He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes slightly. Jon felt himself smiling lightly. 

"Okay," Damian murmured.

"Thats all? Okay? No wise words."

"Nope. You just made a very mature and wise choice. I have no reason not to wait. Its not like I have crowds of eligible suitors banging down my door."

" . . . Was that sarcasm?"

"No," Damian said with a chuckle, opening his eyes again.

Jon shrugged and accepted it.

"I'm sorry I slapped you."

"It's still pretty shocking every time you do. But it's okay. Usually I deserve it."

"I don't think you did this time."

"Naw I said some pretty harsh things."

"As did I."

"We're gonna start a loop."

Damian chuckled lightly, his eyes trained on Jon's face.

"Probably."

They lapsed into silence, Jon's thumb still gently caressing Damian's cheek. Oh waiting was going to be hell on him.

"I . . . Can I ask something?" He forced out.

"Of course."

"This is a sensitive topic, but I really need to ask."

Damian narrowed his eyes slightly, but nodded.

"And I'm gonna sound a bit insensitive when I ask this, but I need to know your honest opinion so please don't just answer with what you think I'll want to hear."

"Kent, spit it out."

Jon took a breath. "While we're not . . . Together yet . . . Do you want me to not sleep with my friends?"

Damian immediately went tense, his natural reaction to throw up walls and not deal with the problem. Jon just waited, his hand going still on Damian's cheek.

"I . . . Would prefer it if you didn't. But as you said, we aren't together yet, and thus I have no true voice in the matter."

"Yes you do, that's why I asked. I will plan on not, uh . . . Not doing it then."

Damian smiled lightly, his hand going to Jon's shoulder. Jon tilted his head up, leaning in and pressing his lips to Damians in a tender kiss. He really was gonna be suffering for a while, because even just a short kiss like this had his heart soaring. Everything in his body was tuned to Damian, he'd quite gladly kiss the man senseless again, hell he'd even take the man to bed without hesitation. He forced himself to pull away, to shut out the fantasies that were now making themselves known.

Well now he really had incentive to get his mental health together.

Damian was smiling when Jon pulled back, his cheeks slightly pink. He reached up, gently brushing Jon's hair back, running his fingers through it, tugging on the strands. And dear god did it feel good. Damian couldn't be blamed. He didn't know that people playing with Jon's hair was a turn on for him. He didn't know what he was doing. But dear god, Jon did, and he was loving it. Finally, after letting it continue for much longer then he should've, he reached up, gently pulling Damian's hand down, intertwining their fingers.

"So until I'm not a mental wreck. . ."

"Things will continue as normal, I assume. I will be around if you need me, you can continue patrol with me if you wish. We'll keep working on your superhero behavior, and you'll keep working with Father on your mental health."

Jon nodded, that all sounded fair. Now he just needed to gain an insane amount of self control. Damian's phone started ringing, and Damian swore under his breath. Jon was gonna crush that thing one of these days. Damian pulled away, getting up and walking over to where he had left it on the dining room table.

"Grayson? . . . No I'm in Metropolis . . . What do you want?" Damian shot Jon an apologetic look. "Geesh. Okay. I'll . . . No it's fine, I suppose I do owe you . . . Alright, yes, I'll let you know when I'm close, don't do anything stupid until I get there."

Damian hung up and turned to Jon, opening his mouth to speak.

"Its okay."

Jon was already standing.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Dames. Your brother needs you, if anyone understands that, it's me. Do you want me to fly you over?"

Damian shook his head, walking to grab the duffel bag that contained his Robin uniform.

"Okay, be safe, yeah?"

Jon walked to the front door, unlocking it. Damian quickly checked that he had everything before walking over, pulling his coat on. Jon opened the door, and Damian stepped out into the cold November air. Jon stepped out, letting the door close behind him.

"I'll text you in the morning," Damian said, pulling the bag on and turning to Jon.

"Okay," Jon said with a smile, looking down into Damian's green eyes.

Damian opened his mouth, then stopped, biting on his bottom lip. Jon chuckled, stepping closer, putting a hand on Damian's waist.

"Last one?"

"For now."

They moved together, pressing into each other in a tender kiss that quickly became deeper, Jon tugging Damian to him as they made out. Damian moved with him perfectly, hands on Jon's arms, kissing him back like a familiar lover who knew exactly how to kiss Jon properly, every advancement made at just the right time, perfectly in sync.

They fit together perfectly, lips slotting together like a two piece puzzle. Damian was literally perfect, just an inch or two shorter then Jon, the perfect height, slightly smaller then him, fitting perfectly in Jon's arms. They kissed much longer then a "final" kiss should last before Damian pulled away, breaking their sync, unslotting the puzzle pieces. Jon's lungs were screaming, but he didn't care, he would've kept kissing Damian forever.

"Goodbye," Damian breathed, his chest moving quickly as he too tried to regain his breath.

"Yeah," Jon responded with a lazy grin.

He gently kissed Damian's cheek, and then let go, stepping back. Damian smiled back and then turned, walking away to his car. Jon watched him until he was pulling onto the road. And only then did he turn and walk back inside, smiling to himself.

He was so fucked.

* * *

Conner didn't get back until two days later, and when he did get back, Jon was at work. He got some lasagna to go, having promised Kon he wouldn't have to worry about cooking, and drove home quietly, his mind still occupied with Damian. Kon was chilling on the couch when he got into the house, firmly shutting the door behind him.

"Kon?"

"In here kiddo!"

Jon set the container of lasagna down and walked into the living room, flopping beside Kon and leaning into him. Boy was he tired.

"You okay?"

"Work was incredibly painful. There was this one asshole who ate all his food and then told me it wasn't made right and refused to pay unless I gave him a discount. I ended up calling Chiara to deal with it because I was starting to see red and I did not need to deal with a blown cover today."

Conner chuckled, ruffling Jon's hair.

"How was your day with Wayne?"

Jon winced.

"That's . . . Woof. A long story. Tell me about your trip first."

He got a raised eyebrow and a sigh.

"It was fine. We just hung out mostly. Cassie and I helped Bart stop a robbery, but when Tim got there we just went to the movies and got dinner and did normal human things. Hell Cassie even made us go shopping."

Jon chuckled. "I'm sure you loved that."

"Well, I enjoyed being around them."

"That's good. You need friends too, dude."

"Yeah, what a wild sentiment that is."

Jon reached forwards, grabbing Conner's water and sipping it.

"So. You gonna tell me about your wild day?"

"Ugh? No? Can we eat?"

"Sure, but you're still telling me about it."

Jon pushed up off the sofa, walking into the kitchen and grabbing their lasagna, throwing the glass bowl right into the microwave and starting it for three minutes.

"So Damian came out Friday, right?"

_ In more ways then one. _

"Yeah," Jon responded, getting himself a cup of water.

"And? Come on, Jon. Usually you're buzzing with energy whenever he comes out, you didn't even text me all weekend."

"Well, some stuff happened. We got in a big argument, and-"

"Uh oh. Don't tell me you broke up the partnership again?"

"No. No I don't think so. . . Kon, he's pan. We kissed."

Conner, who had been pulling plates out, completely froze. He slowly turned to Jon, eyes wide.

"Yeah . . . That's a . . . Woof."

"Yeah."

Jon pulled the lasagna out when the microwave went off and tested it, finding it still cold inside, he mixed around the lasagna a bit and then put it back in for another two minutes.

"So uh. What, are you two . . . What happened?"

"We talked. We decided not to do anything. Yet."

"Oh so you are totally still planning on taking him to bed?"

"Kon!"

"What!? I see how you look at him, Jonno. You look at him like you wanna eat him alive."

"Shut up!" Jon threw a towel at Kon who laughed and caught it.

"Dude, maybe I just want you to be happy for once, and if fucking a Wayne is what makes you happy, then I'll support you."

"Conner!" Jon screeched, face red.

The microwave beeped and Jon busied himself getting the food out. Conner laughed again, grabbing himself food and heading back to the living room. They turned on a dumb reality show to watch while Jon tried to stop being embarrassed. Of course, he appreciated Kon supporting him, but what he said still made his face go red. Mostly because it was his brother. If one of his coworkers had made a joke like that, Jon would've responded in kind with a dirty joke and let the conversation continue on, but who Jon was and was not having sex with wasn't really a family friendly conversation.

"Hey, you wanna go catch a movie tomorrow? There's that dumb superhero one that just came out."

"The one with the archer guy?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that just a knock off of Oliver?"

"Naw cuz this guy was a circus kid and is poor as shit."

"Oh so it's like, if Roy and Dick had a love child."

Kon ugly snorted and then almost choked on his lasagna.

"Yeah, kinda like that."

Jon chuckled. "Sure, sounds fun. Wanna get shitty pizza too?"

"Of course. It's been a while since we hung out."

"Yeah. And I have the evening off, so we can go after you get back."

"Naw, I'll take off, spend the whole day with my little bro."

"Oh, cool!"

The evening was spend watching shitty tv and then Jon bailed to go take a shower and then lay in bed and look at social media until he passed out.

The next morning, Jon got up and was out the door before Conner was even awake, as he had to work lunch shift. Lunch shift was shit again, there was a family with a baby who would not stop screaming and it was literally killing his ears, and they were  _ his table _ . He had learned why people hated customer service jobs. People where why. Customer Service wouldn't be so bad if people weren't involved. When he got off at three, he drove home, changed out of his restaurant smelling clothes into actually trendy clothes and finding Conner in the office.

"So, we're hanging out now?"

"Yes, we are." 

Conner closed the notebook he had been writing in and walked over, slinging an arm around Jon's shoulders.

"Let me go change and then we can head into town."

Kon jogged upstairs, and Jon pulled on his shoes and jacket, leaning against the counter as he waited. Kon came back after two minutes, a jacket and boots already on. They locked up the house and then got into Conner's car, Jon playing one of his many playlists as they drove. They got an early dinner at some gross chain pizza store, spending an hour there just chatting and joking around. The movie was actually pretty good, despite their original doubts.

They had just gotten home when Jon heard the sirens. They looked at each other, and Jon waved his hand to Conner.

"You work tomorrow, I got it."

"Thanks Kid."

"Don't wait up."

"Be careful."

Jon darted upstairs, changing before flying into town, finding the source of sirens, which was just a convenience store robbery.

Business as usual for the Kent's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So! Romance! Drama! Mental health! Brothers!
> 
> Yeah anyway, i rewrote the chapter to fit in the bit with Kon bc you guys kept asking me for more brother interaction and this was the only place I could fit it in (╥﹏╥) I hope you guys enjoyed it!
> 
> So! Due to my finals, there will be no double post this week, just today's chapter.
> 
> HOWEVER.
> 
> You will get a post on both the 24th, AND the 25th(Christmas!!!), So please keep an eye out for those, I'll try to put them up by 12pm EST!!!
> 
> I hope you guys liked the chapter, kudos and comments are my fuel to live so pls feed me :)


	10. Rule The World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one.... Oof. Second to last chapters are hard bc you want them to be good but yet you're trying to wind things down.
> 
> But I think this one was good. I'm sure you guys will let me know.
> 
> Dami's saved Jon so much, time for him to return the favor :)
> 
> ~Content Warnings: mind control, violence, creepy ass granddad ~

Jon landed outside the Manor, on the front stairs, adjusting his backpack, and checking that he hadn't lost any of the items from his bag before walking up the stairs. Snow was gently falling, and obviously had been for a while now, as there were several inches accumulated on the ground. It was almost magical looking. The Manor was glowing with Christmas lights, and honestly, it made Jon feel warm and fuzzy inside. He smiled to himself and stepped forwards, hitting the doorbell and knocking on the front door, and then stepping back to wait.

This was the first year he would spend Christmas away from Conner. The first year in a while he'd truly been excited for Christmas, the first that he had really properly celebrated. Damian had invited Jon out to spend Christmas with his family, and after discussing it with Conner for a while, he had accepted. While Jon was with the Wayne's, Conner had flown to spend Christmas with Bart and Cassie. 

Damian. Oh how Jon had resisted. Nearly two months of doing his best to fix his mental health. Of doing his best to keep his hands off his friend, to keep from pushing Damian against another wall and sharing another wildly passionate kiss. Damian had been a little more open about flirting recently, and it was killing Jon. But he knew it was better for both of them if he resisted, if they waited. He didn't want to start something and then end up ruining it, and by consequence, ruin his friendship with Damian.

A thought suddenly popped into Jon's head. He had been waiting a while. He frowned and pressed the doorbell again. After he stood there another minute, he focused all his senses on the house, using his x-ray vision and listening for anyone who might be inside.

It was empty.

It was eerily empty. He couldn't even find Damian's animals.

Jon stepped forwards and tested the door handle. Unlocked. Well they had been expecting him. He pushed it open and walked in, not bothering to announce himself as he already knew no one was home. He dropped his bags by the front door, and then dug his uniform out from the bottom, throwing it over his shoulder and walking to the office. He was praying the Wayne's hadn't changed the combination to the lift. A quick scan of his memories, a turning of the clock dials, and he was in, the wall sliding back to reveal the lift. He stepped on, considering changing but decided against it, just fiddled with his cape as he waited for the painfully long drop. He didn't even wait until the platform had hit the ground, just jumped off and floated down to the ground, twice as quickly.

He had now discovered why no one was in the mansion. The cave was currently full of people. Batman, Catwoman, Nightwing, Red Hood and Arsenal, Red Robin, Signal, Batwoman, and Batgirl. The entirety of Batco. 

Except Robin.

Jon felt cold dread beginning to settle in his stomach. He was spotted first by Signal, who gave a noise of alarm and pointed at him. Everyone whirled around, weapons brandished and ready to attack.

"Whoa! Easy! It's me!" Jon held up his hands, then held up his uniform to show the other members of the family who he was.

"Superboy?!" Signal exclaimed.

"I see I missed the party," Jon said, looking at Bruce.

The man looked horrible, dark circles under his eyes, worry lines permanent on his forehead. He had a bloody lip, and one eye was beginning to swell. There was a gash in his armor, dried blood staining the grey uniform.

". . . What happened? Where's Rob?" Jon said warily.

At that, Bruce crumbled, collapsing back into the chair that he had just stood up out of, dropping his head into his hands.

"Bruce. Where is he?!" Jon asked again, feeling panic start to rise.

When Bruce didn't answer, Jon swung a cold gaze on Nightwing, who looked like he had been crying. But it was Batwoman who spoke.

"His grandfather has him."

"What the fuck?! Why the hell are you all here, throwing a pity party?!"

"Because Ra's will kill him if we step foot in Nanda Parbat."

"Fuck that."

Jon turned and started walking away.

"Superboy," a tired sigh came from Bruce.

Jon stopped, his angry glare turning back to Bruce. They locked eyes, and Jon was sure Bruce was about to yell at him.

"Go get our boy," Bruce said, giving a nod.

"Bruce!" Nightwing exclaimed. "Jon, no!"

Jon ignored him, he ducked into one of the many hallways leading out of the main room and used a burst of speed to change into his Superboy uniform. He walked back out, heading towards Bruce. 

"I'm going to go get him. I'm going to bring him back alive. Even if I have to battle the whole League of Shadows. Even if I have to kill Ra's to do it. I'm getting Damian," Jon growled, locking eyes with Bruce.

Bruce reached out and put a hand on Jon's arm.

"What do you need from me?"

"Coordinates."

"Head towards Asia, I'll call your comms when you're close."

Jon nodded and turned, taking off and zipping out of the batcave.

He was furious. Nine of them and they didn't even try saving Damian?! They're useless. He can and will do it by himself. He wasn't kidding. He'd take out every single member of the League of Shadows. He'd kill Talia and Ra's. He hadn't killed, or even been tempted to in months, not since March, probably. But the rage burning through his veins was making it incredibly tempting.

How long had Ra's been a thorn in Damian's side? Had the old man really not died yet? Jon remembered hearing stories about the years Ra's spent trying to bring Damian back to the League. And then after it became clear Damian would never be coming back, he had switched instead to revenge, spending way too much of his free time trying to catch and kill his grandson. Apparently he finally succeeded. Jon had a long flight, even at his top speeds, and so he had plenty time to think. Think about Damian, think about himself, about their relationship. Fuck his boundaries, if they both came out of this alive, he was kissing Damian. 

Damian Wayne. A man born to be raised in hell, trained at every moment to become the perfect living weapon. Trained to become Ra's sword, and then one day, take over the League of Shadow's and go on to rule the world. And if Talia hadn't given him to Bruce, Jon had no doubt he would have fulfilled his destiny. Damian had come so far since they were kids, in so many ways that Jon couldn't even explain. It really was amazing to see, and he never wanted to lose Damian, never wanted to have to go another day, another week, without the man at his side

Damian Wayne was born to rule the world, and Jonathan Kent would conquer it for him, all he had to do was ask.

At some point, Bruce called him and told him exactly how to get to Nanda Parbat, and what to expect when he got there. He didn't try to convince Jon to spare anyone. He just explained what and where and who.

"What happened, Bruce?"

"I don't even really know. We were investigating a murder and suddenly they just appeared, using toxins to incapacitate Damian. I was able to resist longer, and got pretty beat up for it. Ra's contacted us two hours later and gloated. . . I think he might try to mind wipe, or mind control Damian somehow."

"Not if I have anything to say about it."

"I know, Jon. I'm glad you came by. I'm in no shape to take them on, and honestly . . . I don't think I could ask any of the rest of them to do this. . . But you didn't need asked."

"Bruce, I care bout Damian more than you know."

"Trust me. I've seen it. You've become a good kid, Jon. And one day you'll be a good husband."

Jon went silent for a moment. And Bruce didn't say anything, the line just crackled.

"He's told you?"

"He didn't need to. I see it in how you two interact. I saw it in Dick and Babs. I saw it in Tim and Conner. I see it in Roy and Jason. I'd nearly be bold enough to say you two were meant for each other."

Jon sighed lightly.

"Just focus on saving him now, though," Bruce reminded gently.

There was no "if you can". There was no "don't kill yourself in the process". It was just pure trust that Jon would figure it out. Trust that Jon would return Damian to Bruce at all costs.

"I will, Bruce."

And with that the line went dead.

A few hours later, the cold, ominous structure of Nanda Parbat appeared, looming and dark. It was nearly sunrise. Jon found the tower entry Bruce had told him about, knocking out the guard for it before he could sound the alarm. Jon just let himself in and began exploring the hallways, trying to find the prison where Damian would likely be located. The fun thing about being Kryptonian, was that anytime he came across a soldier, they would attack him with their swords, which would just bounce off his skin and shatter.

Somehow he had yet to raise the alarm. The next guard he came across, he grabbed them by their throat, shoving them against the wall.

"Where is Robin?!" He snarled, not choking yet, but hands tight.

"The Heir is serving My Master now," the guard said with a laugh.

"Where is he?!"

"In my Master's chamber. On the far north tower. They're expecting you, Superboy."

Jon tightened his hand, squeezing until the guard crumpled. He tossed them aside and began walking, or rather floating, towards the north tower. It didn't take him long to get there, just some small interruptions when he ran into several guards who ended up with broken bones or burnt appendages. Nothing major. Finally he found the chamber, and of course the door was open. Jon stopped, scanning the room.

Three guards just behind the door. Two people to the left side, and another two on the other side. Damian was on the right side. He seemed physically fine, but the concerning part was that he wasn't chained, or bound in anyway, and had a long metal object in his hand. Great. So Bruce was right. Well, time to get this party started.

Jon shot through the door in a burst of speed, spinning around and bringing his arms up as the three guards lunged forwards, swords flashing. He blocked the first two, letting them glance off his forearms. The third hit he grabbed, caught the blade with his elbow and snapped it in half, yanking the guard forwards and headbutting him. He grabbed the limp body and spun, using him as a battering ram to knock down the second one, and then lunged for the third guard, who flipped out of the way, keeping her sword at the ready, and giving Jon a bit of breathing room.

He quickly threw a glance around and was able to see exactly who all was in the room. On the one side was a young man and woman Jon didn't know, or care about. And on the other was Damian and Ra's Al Guhl. Damian was okay, still wearing his Robin armor, except the mask, his sword ready, but lowered.

"Ah! Superboy! We figured you'd be joining us!" Ra's exclaimed, just as the second guard dove at Jon from behind.

Jon just sidestepped, grabbing the guard, yanking him around and slamming his knee into his stomach, winding him. Jon smacked him on the back of the neck, right in a spot he knew would incapacitate the man. He tossed that limp guard aside, ignoring Ra's to focus on the woman, who was staying out of reach. Of course that wasn't a problem, Jon cleared the distance in a half a second and slammed into her hard, throwing her across the room and into the wall. Only then did he turn to Ra's and Damian, blue eyes focusing on his friend, hoping for a sign he was okay.

Damian was just blankly staring into the middle-distance. Somehow all his muscles seemed tensed and relaxed at the same time, like a snake ready to lunge. Jon's gaze drifted from him to Ra's Al Guhl.

"Wayne must have not gotten my message that I'd kill him if anyone stepped foot inside Nanda-"

"Here's the thing, Mutton Chops. I haven't." Jon pointed down at his feet, showing he was still levitating. "Not one foot has touched your ugly floor."

Ra's actually started laughing at that. Jon was starting to get concerned about Damian being so spaced out.

"Bluntly, give him to me, or I'll fry your brains from here," Jon said, letting the red tinge start growing around his eyes.

"You kill me, and his brain will become such a shattered mess you will never be able to glue him back together."

Ra's pointed behind him at the two people. Jon glanced behind him, and noted that the man was stood similarly to Damian, staring through Jon at the billionaire.

"What are you doing to him?!" Jon growled, stepping towards Ra's.

"Undoing everything that worthless father of his has done." Ra's hesitated, scanning Superboy over. "We know how much he cares for you, Jonathan. Surrender, and I'll allow you to stay by his side as his . . . Companion, I suppose."

"And what? Stay chained inside a room for the rest of my pitiful life? Fat chance."

"Fine. Then as his partner. I know how you once were. It's incredibly easy to corrupt those that are good, especially a second time. Join him. Help him take his rightful place," Ra's said, smiling wolfishly. "Is it really easier to be a hero? Wasn't it so much easier to rule by fear and punishment?"

The sad thing was that Ra's was right. It was so much easier when Jon wasn't trying so hard to be good. When he could do whatever the hell he wanted, kill rapists and hurt robbers. When Metropolis feared him, and the Justice League didn't dare touch him with a fifty foot pole. It was so much easier back then.

But he had changed. For Damian.

"You changed for him once, no? You could do it again. You could rule by his side."

Jon was opening his mouth to snap out a sharp retort when Damian seemed to break out of whatever trance he was in.

"No! Jon, don't- AAGHH!" Damian broke into a scream, and immediately froze again.

Jon started to surge forwards, but was intercepted by Ra's and a sword.

"Your answer, Superboy?!"

"Go to hell, you devil!" Jon spat. "I will never tarnish my father's legacy like that again."

Ra's snarled. Literally snarled. "I'm sure that big blundering idiot would be proud of his offspring. Stupidly loyal. The whole lot of you. Fine. Damian, kill him."

Jon's gaze snapped to Damian, who literally seemed to be fighting himself, his muscles flinching but not going anywhere. A small whimper escaped him, and he suddenly launched forwards, sword swinging in a deadly arc towards Jon's neck. Jon stepped out of the way, hand coming up to grab Damian's blade and yank it away. Instead the cold steel bit into his skin and cut through his flesh. Jon yelped and darted back, his body going cold as he realized Damian's sword must be that dumb Kryptonian-steel mixture.

Damian, eyes trained on Jon, but not focused, stepped back into a ready position, waiting for Jon to reengage. Jon stayed back, evaluating his options, trying to figure out how to get them both out alive.

"Damian!" Ra's snapped.

The man lunged into action again, a flurry of strokes coming at Jon. He dodged them all, except one upward swing which caught him on the cheek, leaving a large gash in his skin. He gave a shout of pain as blood started pouring out of the wound.

"Dames, please, it's me," Jon begged, reaching up to touch the wound, the smell of blood filling his senses.

Damian seemed to hesitate before continuing forwards, barely giving Jon enough time to block or dodge his hits. Ra's laughed, watching the two fight.

"He's beyond your saving now, Superboy. . . Look at you, practically defenseless to his attacks."

Finally Jon had enough, he lunged forwards, Damian's sword barely missing his side as he grabbed the man's wrist, yanking him sideways off balance and knocking him down on the ground, quickly dropping down and pinning him.

"Damian! Snap out of it. I know you can do this."

Damian squeezed his eyes shut, struggling uselessly against Jon's iron grip. Unfortunately, this meant Jon had left himself exposed to other attacks. Like one from the girl who had been apparently guarding the man, who was still following Damian with his gaze. Suddenly Jon understood what he needed to do. But he couldn't as the woman nailed him in the side with a heavy boot, knocking him off Damian, who scrambled up, panting.

Jon swallowed, staring at the two. Damian, and this slightly shorter, dark haired woman. He narrowed his eyes, the woman had moved to block Jon's direct path to the man, but that didn't mean he couldn't still get there. He took a deep breath and then let it all out in one huge wind gust, knocking the woman and Damian over. Jon lunged forwards towards the man, only to be yanked back by his cape, which Ra's had grabbed.

"Now now, that's not how this game works."

"Good thing it's not a game then," Jon snapped, quickly unclipping the cape and releasing himself.

He cleared the room in two seconds, gut punching the man hard, he wheezed and stumbled back, but kept staring through Jon at Damian. Jon grabbed him and smacked his head against the other man's, incredibly hard. Jon could swear he heard a crack. He spun back to his opponents and was once again met by a sword, the woman stabbing, slicing, and smacking Jon in a flurry of silver steel. Of course most the blows didn't do anything but annoy. Jon growled in annoyance, grabbing the girls sword next opportunity and snapping it in half, yanking the broken pieces away and throwing them. He grabbed the girl as she swung at him, twisting her around until her arm was painfully pulled behind her. The crunch of bones and the scream of pain followed shortly after. Jon threw her forwards, letting her smack into the wall, and focused on his new problem.

Ra's Al Guhl preparing to drive a sword through Damian's throat.

"If I can't have him! No one can!" Ra's screamed.

"Oh, shut up, you old asshole," Jon said. 

He didn't even think about what he was doing, just suddenly his heat vision had activated, and Ra's was screaming in pain, badly burnt hands smoking, his clothes on fire, one side of his face burned. Jon walked over and nailed him hard in the jaw, causing him to crumple. He kicked the old man hard in the ribs to get him off Damian, and then looked at the dazed man.

"Damian?" Jon asked softly, crouching beside him.

Damian's eyes snapped over, scanning Jon's face. He let them close and smiled lightly.

"You with me?"

Damian mouthed the word Yes, and that's all the confirmation Jon needed. He stepped away, grabbing his cape, and Damian's sword. He carefully sheathed Damian's sword, and then pulled him up slightly, wrapping the cape around him like a blanket and scooping him up. Damian kept his eyes closed, but let his head fall against Jon's shoulder. Jon smiled lightly and walked over to the window, kicking the glass out, followed by the metal framing and then he stepped out, flying back towards Gotham, mission accomplished.

Jon was admittedly a little worried about what Ra's had done to Damian, concerned about any lasting side effects. Okay. He was a lot worried. It had seemed that Bruce was right about Ra's trying to tamper with Damian's mind. Jon just didn't know how long they had been at it, or what all they had done. Damian was out cold, probably exhausted from fighting whatever was happening to him, so Jon couldn't assess him and see what was wrong. In his worry, Jon forgot to call Bruce, he was just focused on Damian, every cell in his body hyperfocused for any sign that something was wrong.

Damian didn't wake up until they had reached North America, Jon would estimate they were somewhere over East California. The moment he woke up, his whole body went tense, struggling and threatening to fall out of Jon's arms.

"Easy, Dames, Easy. It's me, hold on."

Jon dropped down, landing on a nearby hill so he could set Damian down, carefully placing the man on his feet, but keeping a hold on him, unsure how stable he was. The sun was just beginning to set in California, but Jon could still feel its warmth on his skin, helping his body heal properly. Damian stared up at Jon.

"You came for me," he breathed out, putting his hands on Jon's chest, steadying himself.

"Yeah, of course I-"

Jon didn't get anything else out, interrupted by Damian surging forwards and kissing him. Jon hesitated half a moment before slipping his arms around Damian's waist and returning the kiss, simple as it was. He felt himself relaxing, realizing that Ra's must not have done too much damage if Damian was kissing him. Unless he suddenly stabbed Jon. Then they'd definitely have issues.

But he didn't, just slid his hands up to Jon's neck, and then pulled away quickly, eyes widening in horror as he acknowledge the gash in Jon's face. He reached out to touch it, the wound was sticky with blood, and it was kinda itchy, which meant Jon's body was already doing its job.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Damian whispered, actually looking distraught.

"It's okay, Dames-"

"I couldn't control my own body. It was all I could do to just keep them from taking over my mind."

"I know, shhh. It's not your fault. I'm just glad I got there when I did. They didn't do any damage then?"

"Not enough to achieve their goal. I was able to keep them away from all the important things."

"God, I was so worried," Jon murmured, and he couldn't help himself, he just ducked his head down and kissed Damian again.

Damian eagerly pressed back, a hand threading through Jon's choppy hair, keeping him close as they kissed, a little more desperately this time, mouths open as Jon reassured himself that this was his Damian, and he was okay.

"Come on, we should get you home, Bruce was freaking out," Jon murmured when they finally pulled away.

Damian nodded, pulled Jon's cape tight around himself and allowed himself to be scooped up. Jon took to the air, continuing back to Gotham. Finally he decided he should call Bruce, carefully balancing Damian so he could reach up and press the earpiece. It rang for a while before someone answered.

"What?!" A cranky voice snapped.

"Whoa, calm down, its Superboy. Where's Batman?"

"Jon! Do you have him?!"

"Yeah. I got him, bringing him home now."

"Oh thank Christ."

Jon waited, glancing down at Damian who seemed to have dozed off again. Flying while carrying someone was tedious.

"Patching you through to Bruce now. Be careful, Superboy."

Jon waited again, as the line turned to dialing. By the second ring, someone picked up.

"Who is this."

"Superboy."

"Oh god, Jon. What . . Did."

"He's okay, Bruce. I got him. We're four, maybe five hours out."

Bruce let out a sound that seemed similar to a relieved sob. "Thank God. We'll be waiting. Thank you so much Jon."

"I didn't do it for you guys," Jon said truthfully.

"I know."

Bruce hung up, so Jon returned to focusing on flying. He was really hungry. And tired. He'd need to take a nap in the sunbed. When he woke up tomorrow, it'd be Christmas Eve, and that was so strange.

After another hour and a half, Damian suddenly spoke, giving Jon no warning he was even awake, his voice just intelligible over the wind rushing past Jon's face.

"Did you consider it?"

"What?" Jon asked, glancing at Damian, who opened one eye.

"Ra's offer. Did you consider it?"

"What, the one to become your pet, or the one to help you take over the world?"

"The second one."

"I didn't have to consider it, Damian. I already know the answer."

"No, I assum-"

"You were born to rule the world, and I would conquer it for you. All you have to do is ask."

Damian stared at Jon with wide eyes, seemingly surprised by this.

"But there's a difference between helping you rule the world, and serving Ra's Al Guhl," Jon said, focusing on not smacking into a flock of geese.

"You're serious."

"A hundred percent. Say the words and I'm yours to command."

"I . . . If you weren't literally talking about world domination, I'd say that was incredibly romantic."

"Hey, I'm a hopeless romantic at heart. . . Besides, you're worth it."

That got Damian to shut up, and if his cheeks weren't already colored from the cold wind, Jon would've sworn he blushed.

They didn't really talk much the whole rest of the trip. Damian had fallen back asleep by the time they reached the batcave. It was dark in Gotham. Darker then usual anyway, as night had fallen and consumed the city. The doors slid open the moment Jon neared them, so he just continued down the long hallway, gently jostling Damian to wake him. Bruce, Selina, Alfred, and Dick were all waiting for them, and the second Jon had set down and placed Damian on the ground, Dick ran forwards, hugging his baby brother. Jon smiled and stepped back, letting the family fuss over their lost member.

"Master Kent. Why don't you let me look at that cheek of yours."

Jon turned to look at Alfred and smiled, nodding. He let the butler lead him away, into a medical wing, where he was sat down, and had his cheek cleaned and examined.

"Well, it appears your regeneration rate has already started working, so there is nothing I can do for this except let it heal," Alfred said, applying an antibiotic spray.

"Thanks anyway, Alfred," Jon said, smiling again at the kind butler.

"Of course."

They walked back to the others together, Alfred announcing that he would go and start supper. Bruce quizzed both Damian and Jon several times before allowing them to go change. They met back at the lift, Damian immediately leaning his weight on Jon.

"Hey," Damian said softly.

"Hey."

"Thanks for coming after me."

"I always will."

Damian smiled, stepping onto the lift.

"Hey, Dames?"

"Mmm?"

"I know I'm like, a day and some change early, but can I tell you what I really am hoping to get for Christmas?"

"Sure," Damian said with an amused smirk, hitting the button to take them up to the manor.

"I want you."

That got a raised eyebrow.

"I'm never gonna be perfect. Hell, I'm never gonna be normal. But I mean, I just rescued you from your psychotic grandfather, so I don't think normal is really gonna be our thing," Jon explained. "All I know, is that I don't want to spend another day without you. I want to be able to call you mine, and to kiss you every time I see you, and send you stupid sappy texts and show up at your house with flowers. Because sure, relationships have sucked for me before, but I've changed a lot, and you know who's been there by my side? You. And I wanna be by your side, no matter what you're doing, whether you're saving the world, or ruling it. I wanna be right here with you."

Damian was definitely blushing, staring up at Jon with wide, awed eyes. Jon just grinned at him, waiting for a response to his declaration of love. Because that's basically what that was.

"Jon?"

"Yeah?"

"I have an early present for you then."

"Oh?" Jons grin grew larger.

Damian stepped closer to him, grabbing onto the front of Jon's red and white Christmas sweater.

"We're dating now."

And with that proclamation, Damian kissed Jon, just as the lift ground to a stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omfg tomorrow will be the last chapter (╥﹏╥)
> 
> I don't think I'm ready for the end. I hope you guys like it!!!!


	11. Happily Ever After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here. Oh my God. It's happening. Everyone stay calm. EVERYONE STAY F*CKING CALM.
> 
> I'm gonna crrrryyy. I'll get sappy in the end notes okay? 
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter. This chapter was purely self indulgent fluff. That and Jon deserves it. I hope it doesn't give you cavities. :P
> 
> Also happy Holidays! Whatever you celebrate, if it's Christmas I hope you have a great holiday!!

Jon isn't honestly surprised by much these days. He's done and seen a lot. He's used to things happening without warning and is almost always prepared for the worst.

But he was genuinely surprised to wake up and find a warm body pressed to his chest.

And then he remembered and a smile started forming on his face. 

Last night, Christmas Eve, after a long Christmas party the Wayne's were forced to attend, and Jon tagged along to, he had come back and been led upstairs by Damian. The party itself was interesting, rich people fraternizing and talking smack about each other. There was a lot of champagne and those weird cocktail shrimps, and of course Jon didn't touch the champagne, and the shrimp wasn't great. He mostly just let himself be pulled around by his _ boyfriend _ and smiled and looked pretty. They got asked a million times how they met, to which they could only say they were childhood friends reacquainted. 

Which was, of course, true.

But that doesn't mean Jon wasn't tired of all the rich people judging this farm boy with the scarred face. Because yeah, the cut had scarred, a thick pink gash that sent regret through Damian's eyes every time he looked at it. 

He had also been wearing the most expensive clothing he had ever seen, let alone touched. A few days before, Jon had been ordered to meet Damian at this stupidly expensive store that Jon couldn't even afford to look at, let alone shop in. He had been fitted with some designer suit and fancy shoes. A forty minute process that entailed a bunch of stylists gawking over Jon's body and trying to get him to model for them. His response had simply been "But then Damian would be out of a job". He had gotten smacked on the back of the head for that one.

So he has been given this incredibly fancy designer suit that Damian took back to the Manor so he couldn't wrinkle it. Christmas Eve, after Alfred had woken everyone up at three pm, Jon had showered and then allowed Damian to fuss over his appearance for twenty minutes, just so he could attend a rich person Christmas party.

After they had finally escaped, Damian, cheeks pink from getting tipsy off champagne, had dragged Jon after him, upstairs to his bedroom, where Damian had made sure they both carefully removed and hung up their suits. And then he shoved Jon back onto the bed and they spent the next thirty minutes passionately making out. After, Jon went to get up so he could go to bed, but Damian refused to let him leave, insisting that he stay. So Jon had cautiously laid next to Damian and carefully put an arm around him.

They must've fallen asleep like that, because here he was, waking up with arms still wrapped around Damian. He smiled to himself and rested his face against Damian's shoulder, figuring the man would sleep longer then him and he would have time to doze. He was right. Damian slept for another hour before Jon decided he really needed to pee and would just slip away.

Of course the moment he started pulling his arm out from under him, Damian woke up, inhaling sharply and then groaning in complaint, shifting to tuck his face against Jon's bare chest. Oh yeah, they were both entirely naked except for their boxers. Jon smiled, letting his free hand gently trail along Damian's spine. Peeing could probably wait.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty."

"Morning," Damian mumbled.

Suddenly Jon remembered something and started grinning. "Dames."

"What?"

"Merry Christmas."

There was a pause, then Damian pulled away and smiled. 

"Merry Christmas to you too."

Jon chuckled and ducked his head down to catch Damian's lips. He avoided, tilting his head away so Jon's lips met his cheek.

"I haven't brushed my teeth," Damian complained, as Jon adjusted positions to begin kissing his neck.

"That didn't seem to bother you last night," Jon purred, looking up at Damian with a smirk.

"Fine. One. And then I'm going to go brush my teeth."

Jon grinned and quickly kissed Damian, making sure this one counted. He kissed his boyfriend deeply, Damian's hand came up to Jon's arm, eagerly returning it, despite his earlier protests. And then he shoved Jon off, grinning and rolling away, throwing the covers off. Jon chuckled and watched him disappear into the bathroom. Jon jumped up and grabbed the sweatpants he had worn in here before the party last night.

"Dames! I'll be right back!"

He slipped out, hurrying down the hallways to his guest room, where he grabbed his own toothbrush. A quick bathroom stop, and then he grabbed his phone charger to head back to Damian's room. He slipped inside and Damian was already back in bed, looking at his phone. Jon retrieved his from where he had set it during undressing last night, and found it on three percent. He quickly plugged it in, and found several texts from Conner.

_ You have a lot of explaining to do in two days._

_ You went to Nanda Parbat?!?_

_ And you're dating Damian now?!_

_ What happened!!!!_

_ Lmao! Everything is fine, Kon. I'm okay, Dami is okay. Of course I'll explain everything, but the answer to both those is yes._

_ Wild, right? _

Jon set his phone back down and turned, snuggling up to Damian, who was laying on his side, answering his own texts.

"So what does Christmas look like for the Wayne family?" Jon asked, returning to lightly peppering kisses all over Damian's neck.

"Well, we all try to be awake by nine or ten. We have a huge brunch, because you don't want to interact with anyone before their coffee and food, trust me. And then we do presents, assuming no world ending circumstance begins before then."

"That would be tragic."

"Indeed."

Damian set down his phone, his hand coming up to intertwine his fingers with that of the one Jon had over his waist. He didn't pull away or complain when Jon's mouth settled on one spot, beginning to kiss and suck on it. He was curious to see if the billionaire would actually let him leave a hickey. The answer was yes, Damian would let him despite barely having been dating for a day, but circumstances would not. Jon was suddenly interrupted by a knocking on the door.

"Master Damian, brunch will be ready shortly."

"Thanks, Alfred!"

"I trust you will tell Mr. Kent."

"Uh, yeah!"

Damian waited a moment before chuckling, looking up at Jon, who had rested his chin on Damian's shoulder. They smiled at each other for a moment.

"We should probably go down."

"Or we could not, I'm quite enjoying cuddling with you."

Damian hummed, running his fingers along Jon's forearm.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. It's uh, not often I get physical contact like this from someone I actually care about."

That got a raised eyebrow.

"I might be slightly touch starved. . ."

"Maybe."

Jon just smiled and shifted, pushing himself up on one arm to lean over Damian's side, kissing him. He hummed in response, reaching up to tangle his hand into Jon's hair, gently tugging on the strands. They shifted so Damian was on his back and Jon was over him, a knee between Damian's legs. Kissing Damian was better then flying, better then getting high. Kissing Damian was like some new drug that only Jon had access to, it made his heart race, and made him feel euphoric. They kissed deeply, mouths open in a passionate, filthy kiss that Jon would be remembering for days.

After quite a while, Damian pulled away, pushing Jon off, and getting up. Jon sighed and rolled onto his back, watching the man walk around, not so secretly admiring his body. Damian was unfairly hot. Like, he was perfectly muscular, plenty of firm muscles, but not too bulky, still lithe enough to be able to move gracefully, with the balance and skill of an acrobat. His skin, naturally darker, had been tanned throughout the summer, and that had yet to fade, remarkably, he had few scars, and the ones he did were thin enough to be invisible unless you were close, the only one on his upper body that was obvious was a starburst of a scar over his right shoulder.

Damian caught Jon staring, and a smirk formed on his face. He turned and faced Jon, hands on his hips, still wearing just boxers. They looked at each other for a moment before Jon finally pulled off the covers and walked over, stopping in front of Damian.

"Are we going to actually ever make it downstairs?"

"I'd like to say no," Jon confessed, his hands going to Damian's waist.

"Mm, and what if I didn't let you?" Damian asked, not moving even as Jon started leaning in to kiss him.

"And how would you do that?"

"I could throw you back on that bed and restrain you."

Jon paused, pulling back slightly to smirk at Damian.

"That'd be pretty hot, not gonna lie."

Damian smacked Jon on the chest and pushed him away, shaking his head, despite the fact that he was laughing. Jon laughed as well and watched Damian walk into his closet to get clothes.

"Go get dressed, and come back!" Damian yelled to him.

"Yes sir!"

Jon once again exited Damian's bedroom, still shirtless, and started making his way to his room. Only this time he didn't make it the whole way.

"Oh, good morning, Jon."

Jon froze, turning to see Bruce walking out of a room. He was wearing sweatpants, and an actually stylish christmas sweater??? It was pretty obvious Jon had just come from Damian's room, he was only about eight feet from the door, and was clearly walking away. It would also probably be obvious to Bruce why Jon had been in Damian's room, due to the fact that he was shirtless, still had pressure lines in his skin from having his arm slept on, and still had bedhead.

"Uh, morning, Bruce. . . Merry Christmas?"

"Merry Christmas," Bruce said, offering a smile. He just walked past Jon, towards the stairs. "You might wanna hurry, Alfred's Christmas brunches are not something you wanna miss!"

Well that was definitely a first. Jon had never had a parent seem so completely okay with him having slept with(in any sense of that phrase) their kid. But Bruce had barely bat an eye. Jon chuckled and shook his head and walked to his room. He dug out a t-shirt and hoodie from his bag and pulled those on, as well as a pair of socks. He stepped over in front of the mirror and ran a hand through his hair, pushing down his many cowlicks and bird's nests. With that he walked back out, down to Damian's room again, not bothering to knock.

This time he found Damian sat on the floor, doing some form of a stretch that had him bent in half, upper body folded over his legs. Jon stopped and stared.

"That makes my legs hurt just looking at it."

Damian laughed, and after a few more seconds sat up, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging his legs.

"Well, it does take time, and consistent stretching. Dick likes to spring new stretches on me every time he comes to visit so I have to keep it up."

"Hmm, that dang circus kid."

Damian laughed again and walked over. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, just need to grab my phone and glasses."

"Don't bother, Father will confiscate all phones anyway, so you might as well leave it up here. . . And you don't need your glasses to hide your identity, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, you right."

So they walked back out together, walking downstairs, shoulder to shoulder. Upon walking into the dining room, they were greeted with everyone saying Merry Christmas. They were the last of the group to the table, but there were two open chairs by Dick for them to sit in. The table, for once, was completely full. Everyone was at the table, even a redhead that Damian explained was his cousin Kate. In total, there was Bruce, Selina, Dick, Jason and Roy, Tim, Duke, Barbara, Stephanie, Kate, and then Damian and Jon. The seat at the end of the table across from Bruce was the only empty one. Thirteen in total, and they were all laughing and talking.

Alfred came at some point and got Jon and Damian coffee, before beginning to bring out trays of food. Every type of breakfast food imaginable was on the table by the end of it. And yet everyone waited to eat. Finally, Alfred returned and sat in the last free chair. At Bruce's nod everyone began getting food, smiling and nodding to each other, incredibly polite for this family.

Bruce was right, the food was absolutely amazing, Jon ate far more than he should have. The meal wasn't rushed, the family taking time to talk to each other and catch up on their lives. Jon was sat between Damian and Jason, and had been chatting lightly with Jason about random things, such as the fact that no one had told him that Jon and Damian were dating. Roy ended up leaning around his fiance to input on the conversation, smirking at Jon.

After everyone was done eating, the kids all jumped up and started cleaning the dishes before Alfred could, all four of Bruce's boys as well as Duke and Stephanie. They had the table cleared in minutes and all disappeared into the kitchen, while Roy and Barbara refused to let Alfred join them. Jon, after a moment of hesitation, grabbed the empty coffee pitcher and followed them, finding the group methodically putting up food, washing, drying and putting away dishes. It was amazing to see.

"Wow, I think Bruce would have a heart attack if he saw you guys right now," Jon said, giving the pitcher to Jason, who was elbows deep in soap suds.

"He's spiteful enough to finally die from something as pitiful as that," Duke commented, watching Jon warily.

"Yeah, Damian comes by it honestly."

"Shut up, Drake."

Jon grabbed a spare towel and stepped beside Damian, helping him catch up on drying all the dishes that had piled up.

"Oh, thank you, Jon."

Jon hummed, gently bumping Damian with his shoulder.

The whole thing only took ten minutes, tops, and then the whole group made their way out, through the house to the main living room where the huge ass Christmas tree was set up. Damian hung back, snagging Jon's hand and waiting for the door to close before speaking.

"You doing okay?"

"So far so good. . . . It is a little strange, but I'll be fine. If I start getting overwhelmed I'll let you know." 

Damian smiled and nodded, going up on his tiptoes to kiss Jon's forehead. Jon smiled, it was such a familiar thing, something Conner did without thinking these days, but it was entirely different coming from Damian. They followed the others, entering the living room still holding hands. Damian, upon seeing that there wouldn't be enough room for two people to sit comfortably together on a sofa, just walked over and sat on the floor in front of the fireplace, sitting with his legs crossed. Jon sat beside him, leaning back on his hands. Titus, the huge dog barely showing signs of his age, came over and laid in front of Damian, sniffing Jon's legs for a moment before resting his huge head on them. Jon smiled and reached up, scratching behind the dogs ears.

For the next two hours, the family unwrapped presents, not in any rush, taking time to tell stories and joke around. It was beginning to make Jon's heartache, thinking about the last Christmas with his parents, he remembered it far too well. It had just been the four of them, but it was so perfect, it had even been snowing when Jon woke up. He and Conner woke up extra early and got all the chores done so they could spend the rest of the morning inside. They had unwrapped presents, and drank hot cocoa, and watched a Christmas movie. It has been so perfect.

Jon leaned a little more of his weight into Damian, who looked up, eyebrow raising, and then immediately switching to concern when he saw the sad nostalgic look on Jon's face. Bruce was in the middle of a story about something Tim had done as Robin.

"Are you okay?" Damian asked, finding Jon's hand and squeezing it.

"Yeah. . . I just." Jon sighed lightly. "Was thinking about the last Christmas with my parents."

Damian gave a slight smile and leaned over, kissing Jon's cheek.

"This is really nice, though. Thank you for inviting me, Damian."

"Trust me, I'm more glad you came then you are that I invited you," Damian said, gently elbowing him with a grin.

"Well yeah, but no. . . It's just nice to be a part, even a tiny one, of a family Christmas again."

Damian hummed, letting his head rest on Jon's shoulder. If anyone had noticed the interaction, they didn't say anything, and Jon was extremely grateful for that. After finishing unwrapping everything, there was a quick clean up and a few minutes where everyone could go take their gifts to their rooms before they were going to start a movie. Bruce and Selina had gotten Jon one of those really nice Fossil Smartwatches, and Jon had sputtered flusteredly for like five minutes when he unwrapped it, in total shock. 

Damian had gotten him three things, but had argued that they weren't that expensive, and besides, Jon better get used to Damian spoiling him. The first was a necklace, simple silver chain, but the pendent was a piece of black onyx, about an inch long and a quarter inch wide, a date on either side. It took Jon a moment to realize that one was his dad's birthday, and the other his mother's. He had stared at it for a while before whispering a thank you, and letting Damian clip it on. The second thing was a very nice leather bomber jacket that Jon immediately knew Conner would be drooling over. And the third were a pair of black wire glasses, that Damian explained were, A: more stylish then his current frames, and B: were blue light filters, so actually held benefit to Jon.

Jon had taken the jacket and glasses to his room before heading over to Damian's room to fetch his phone, and of course, his boyfriend. He found Damian sat on the bed, looking at the present Jon had gotten him. He had, through the help of Bruce, discovered that Damian loved collecting books on different cultures myths and lore. Bruce had done some snooping and given Jon the list of what Damian already had, and from there, Jon had been able to track down a book on Chinese Lore that Damian didn't yet own.

"You like it?"

Damian glanced up and immediately smiled, closing the book. "Yes, I do. Thank you again."

"Of course," Jon hummed, walking over and sitting next to Damian.

"Did you like your presents?"

"Yeah, I really did."

Damian leaned over and kissed Jon, who eagerly pressed back, a hand going to Damians thigh to brace himself.

"Are you staying tonight?" Damian asked once he pulled away, standing and grabbing his phone, setting the book down beside his bed.

"Yeah, I was planning on it. Kon won't be getting back until tomorrow anyway."

Jon followed his lead and went and grabbed his phone, leaving the charger as he had a suspicion he'd need it in here again. They walked back downstairs, finding the others preparing to start the movie, and Alfred pouring everyone hot cocoa. They were able to claim the loveseat this time, Jon leaned back into Damian, the man wrapping his arms around Jon. The movie was White Christmas, Jon had forgotten how much he loved it. By the time the movie was even halfway done, Damian and Jon were curled up, Jon partially sitting in Damian's lap, at an angle that he could rest his head against Damian's neck. They had a blanket tucked around them, and if Damian's hand was pressed against Jon's skin then that was their problem, and theirs only.

Jon was warm and sleepy and considering dozing off, but he was also enjoying the physical contact. And the movie. Okay but mostly the physical contact.

It was so strange thinking about how his life had completely flipped around in just a year. A year ago he was still trying to find Lex Luthor. He had just begun to trust the Wayne's again. But a year ago, he had no intentions of changing, perfectly fine with how he was living, ruling Metropolis by fear, and making his own laws. Now, he was more like his Father then ever, he had even started helping the Justice League, and other then his minor lapse involving Ra's Al Guhl, he hadn't done anyone serious damage in months. He was in a better place mentally then he had been since he was a kid, and he now had a pretty awesome, and really hot boyfriend to boot.

It was almost as if life had gone "Huh, you know, we kinda owe Jon Kent for all the shit we've put him through". You wouldn't ever catch Jon complaining.

After the movie, which Jon actually managed to stay awake for, Bruce told everyone they had about an hour to do whatever they wanted before dinner would be ready. Dick managed to convince several of the gang to go play board games, so six of the twelve people in the room left, heading back to the dining room. Kate, Jason, Tim and Selina lingering in the living room. Jon finally pushed himself up off the sofa, much to Damian's apparent displeasure. He just stretched backwards, popping his back, bent down to touch his toes, and then flopped back onto the sofa next to Damian, pulling out his phone.

"I really can't believe you didn't go with them," Jason was saying to Tim, gesturing towards the door that everyone had disappeared out of.

"Maybe I just wanted to hang out with the queer side of the family."

"Wait . . . Is anyone in your family actually straight?" Jon asked, genuinely curious. He had always gotten the vibe that they weren't.

The others went uncomfortably silent, trying to figure out the answer to that question.

"Uh, of the whole gang, or just like . . . Those of us attached to Bruce?" Jason asked.

"Just you guys attached to Bruce."

"Then no," Tim said. "I mean, clearly Damian isn't, Jason, Kate and I are all gay, Dick is bi, Bruce is . . . . Whatever-"

"Bisexual," Selina inputted.

"Yeah. And if we're counting Selina . . ."

"I'm Pansexual."

"So no," Damian summed with a chuckle.

"If you wanna know about the others, Babs at least is straight . . . Honestly dunno bout Steph and Duke."

Jon shook his head and chuckled.

"What?" Kate asked, eyebrow raised. "Something funny, kid?"

"Naw . . . Just, ya know, the amount of straight heroes I've met is surprisingly low. I think my dad topped that list, followed maybe by Diana and Oliver."

"Yeah, I've noticed that too . . . " Tim commented softly.

Sometimes Jon forgot that Conner had dated the man sat across the living room from him. They exchanged a look, but neither said anything, as Kate started asking Jason something about his and Roy's wedding.

"I was really tempted to just not invite any of you guys, but Roy reminded me, not so gently, that you'll just crash the venue anyway."

"Yeah, we will."

"Do you guys know how weird it is to be engaged to one of my brothers best friends?"

"Admittedly, no." Tim didn't sound very interested, pulling out his phone.

Jason, Selina and Kate began chatting about weddings, while Jon just turned his attention to Damian, who was listening with an amused smirk. Jon shifted positions, putting an arm around Damian and leaning over to whisper in Damian's ear.

"You know what we should do?"

There was a pause, a moment of hesitation that told him that Damian had a lot of ideas of what they could be doing right now.

"What's that?"

"Build a snowman."

"Jonathan, it's like three degrees outside."

"Pussy."

"Some of us actually get cold!"

"Well I'll just have to warm you up later then," Jon murmured, pressing a kiss to Damian's jawline.

"Ew, gross, do that someplace else!" One of Damian's brothers protested.

Jon ignored him. "What do you say?"

"Fine."

Jon grinned and pulled away, hopping up, and noting Damian's red face. He just pulled Damian off the sofa.

"We're gonna go make a snowman!" He announced, letting Damian pull him out the door.

"Wait, what?" 

That apparently was not what Jason had thought that conversation had been about.

Damian led Jon through the halls to a huge coat closet, where he pulled out a thick winter coat and pulled it on. Jon located his own and pulled it on, zipping it up. Damian pulled a hat on, just a simple beanie, and then found a pair of gloves, pulling on a pair of boots that were also in the closet. Jon used superspeed to dash upstairs and get his sneakers, reappearing beside Damian in under five seconds.

"Ready?" Damian asked, looking up.

"Yup!"

So they went outside and built a snowman, it was, despite Damian's claim, warm enough that the snow stuck together perfectly, enough for them to make an amazing snowman and situate him in front of the front walkway. Damian went to find coal for the face, while Jon totally didn't steal sticks from one of the many tree's for it's arms. He stuck those in, and when Damian reappeared with coal, he broke them into small enough pieces, and together they arranged them into a smiley face.

"Now we need some more decorations."

"I'll get a hat and scarf, you go get a carrot from Alfred. Take your shoes off though."

They split off again, Jon kicked left his shoes on the front rug and made his way into the kitchen, finding Alfred working on supper.

"Hey, Alfred, can I steal a carrot?"

"Of course, Mr. Kent. May I inquire as to why?"

"A snowman must have a nose!"

Alfred chuckled lightly and fetched a carrot from the fridge, passing it over.

"Thanks!"

Jon headed back outside, he found Damian tying a scarf onto their snowman. He walked over and carefully secured the nose into place, helping Damian arrange the hat, and then watching him put gloves on the sticks.

"Aww, cute," Jon remarked, tugging Damian into his side.

Damian hummed, willingly leaning into him, letting his eyes close momentarily. Jon pulled out his phone and snapped a few pictures of the snowman before tucking his phone away, and looking down at Damian. He reached a hand up and gently tilted Damian's head up before kissing him softly. Damian leaned up into the kiss, their cold noses bumping as he shifted positions to wrap his arms around Jon's neck. They stood out in the middle of the yard, kissing, for a minute before suddenly something cold impacted on Jon's leg. He pulled away, confused more then anything, and looked up to see Roy holding a snowball, Jason stood up on the porch recording and giggling.

"Hey!" Jon protested, moving to shield Damian from the next well aimed snowball.

Damian pulled away and started making his own snowballs and soon they were engaged in a full free for all snowfight. By the end of it, everyone was laughing and out of breath, faces red. Jon harassed Jason into taking pictures of him and Damian with their snowman, and then they all shuffled back inside, with fifteen minutes left to get dry clothes and warm up.

Damian just dragged Jon upstairs and into his room, reminding the other man of the deal they had made. Jon quite eagerly agreed, stripping out of his wet clothes and crawling under Damian's sheets, waiting patiently as Damian did the same, and soon they were wrapped up together, Jon's mouth on Damian's neck, chest, stomach. Anywhere he had access to bare skin and didn't get swatted off. Damian, despite the occasional complaint, was quite content with this, hands in Jon's hair, fingernails against his scalp, unknowing that this was sending signals of pleasure and desire through Jon's body.

Oh one day, sex with Damian was going to rock both their worlds. But for now, Jon would be content with memorizing his mouth, and learning how to work him to pieces with just a simple kiss. He would be content with Damian's hands in his hair, on his arms, on his body. Because kissing Damian was euphoric. 

Their fifteen minutes turned to twenty, and then twenty-five, and then someone was knocking on the door, reminding them that "If you hormonal teens are quite done, the rest of us would like to eat dinner". And their twenty-five minutes turned to thirty just to be obstinate. Only then did they get up and go to get dressed, Jon just pulled on his wet sweatpants so he could dart across the house and find the second pair he had packed. But he stopped, hand on the door turning Damian, scanning his body and the scattered marks of irritated red skin caused by Jon.

"You warm now?" He asked, smirking.

"Oh, go get changed!"

When they made it downstairs finally, they immediately got hazed for making everyone wait, but neither seemed to care, sitting down and allowing supper to finally start. The food was once again amazing, and boy was Jon gonna need to get recipes off Alfred. The family laughed and talked, still somehow not out of topics to chat about. Those who were of age drank some wine, and those who were not of age, or were sober(*cough*Roy*cough*), simply had some non-alcoholic cider.

After supper, lots of people headed home. Kate, Jason and Roy because they had to patrol, Dick because he had to get back to Bludhaven, Steph because she just wanted to go to bed, and Tim because he was leaving for Central City to go hang out with Cassie, Bart, and Kon. When he had said that, he had told Jon not to tell Conner, and then breezed out the door. Barbara left shortly after everyone else, Alfred taking her home.

"Well, Selina and I are gonna go drive around and look at Christmas lights, you two wanna come?" Bruce asked after everyone had left, and the mansion was eerily quiet again.

"No, I think we'll stay here."

"Alrighty, don't have too much fun," Selina said with wink, and the two disappeared into the garage.

Damian just rolled his eyes, and walked back to the living room, where they ended up putting on another movie and cuddling on the sofa, Jon dozing lightly, as he was incredibly warm with Damian's arms around him. If dating a hot billionaire vigilante meant that he got cuddles, lots of kisses, amazing food, occasional expensive presents, and just sometimes he had to go flying across the world to save his dumb ass, Jon would gladly accept. 

Now he just needed to not fuck this up too, and they would live happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God. Okay. It's done. It's been what, a month, and it's finally all out there, in the world. This story is like my child and I wanna thank you all for accepting and loving my child :)
> 
> I really can't express how much everyone's comments and dedication to this fic meant to me. Hell this story even got me my first fanart! I loved interacting with you guys and I hope I'll see you guys names pop up in my inbox on future stories!
> 
> Seriously tho. Without you guys this story would've been nothing so thank you.
> 
> If you want more Damijon fics, I have an entire series since that's like. All I post. Please check it out! Also at the beginning of the year i have another chapter story i plan to start posting, so if you wanna keep an eye out for that, I'd love it!
> 
> Thank you guys again! 
> 
> (〒﹏〒)


End file.
